Exit Wounds
by S. A. L. Stratton
Summary: Thea Winters was Rick Grimes' and Shane Walsh's other best friend from their childhood. Thea and Rick had always loved each other but when Lori and Rick started dating, Thea left King County and joined the US army. Returning to King County, Thea finds Rick in a coma. Then the outbreak happens. Thea tries to keep her distance from the love of her life while trying to keep him alive.
1. Prologue

**"****Everything has its time**

**And everything ends."**

**-Unknown**

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

"What's the difference between men and women?"

Two small town Georgian cops sat in their vehicle, eating lunch, their scanner quiet for the moment. Sheriff's Deputies Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh were more than partners, they were best friends. Had been all their lives, along with Thea Winters, the girl who had completed their trio, up until she left to join the US Army. They often got to enjoy quiet moments like these, eating burgers and fries, complaining about the women in their lives, or the one that was just barely on the outskirts anymore.

"This a joke?" Rick questioned, handing his friend a napkin, as he had a little grease around his mouth still.

"No, I'm serious. I never met a woman who knew how to turn off a light," Shane said, grinning as he dipped one of his fries in the sauce on his friend's half-eaten burger. "They're born thinking the switch only goes one way, on. Mm, and they're struck blind the second they leave a room. I mean, every woman I ever let have a key, I swear to God, it's like I come home, house is all lit up…well, except T, but T's always been an exception to pretty much every rule."

"Yeah." Rick said, thinking about his other best friend, who was out fighting in war torn Afghanistan.

He had been thinking more and more about her recently, what with his marriage troubles. He had started to wonder what his life would have been like if he had gathered up the courage back to ask Thea out when they had been kids, before Lori, before marriage, before his son. He always felt guilty for that thought, because there was nothing he loved more than Carl. Nothing. Yet those thoughts kept coming the more he and his wife argued. He found himself waiting for Thea's weekly phone calls, and her letters, with eager anticipation, just for a mental escape from his marital problems and to hear more about this strange world his best friend, and one-time romantic interest, had pushed her way into.

"Anyway, my job, you see, apparently, because…because my chromosomes happen to be different is I've then gotta walk through that house, turn off every single light this chick left on." Shane continued his rant about women and light switches, unknowingly bringing his best friend out of his head.

"Is that right?" Rick questioned, finally turning his head to look at his friend, who was clearly amused by himself.

"Yeah, baby. Mm. Oh, Reverend Shane is preaching to you now, boy. Then…then the same chick, mind you, she'll bitch about, uh, global warming. You see, this is when Reverend Shane wants to quote from the guy gospel and say, 'Darling, maybe you and every other pair of boobs on this planet just figure out that the light switch, you see, goes both ways, maybe we wouldn't have so much global warming.'"

"You say that?" Rick asked, knowing from experience that his friend _could_ be _that _tactless.

"Mm. Yeah, well, a polite version," Shane laughs, as Rick chuckles at his best friend. Shane had always been the womaniser, the easy going seducer, while Rick was the cool, charming gentleman. In high school, Rick had spent so much time wrapped up in his secret feelings for his best friend, and then in his relationship with Lori, that he hadn't really dated all that much. Shane had dated a lot. _A lot_. "Still, man, that…that earns me this…this look of loathing you would not believe. And that's when the 'Exorcist' voice pops out. 'You sound just like my damn father! Always yelling about the power bill, telling me to turn off the damn lights!'."

"And what do you say to that?" Rick wondered, now fully curious as to how these conversations ended. Probably with his friend wearing a drink, or a red mark on his cheek from an angry ex-girlfriend.

"I know what I want to say. I wanna say, 'Bitch, you mean to tell me you've been hearing this your entire life and you are still too damn stupid to learn how to turn off a switch?' You know, I don't actually say that though."

"That would be bad." The two Sheriff's Deputies chuckled together, exchanging amused expressions as they laughed.

"I go with the polite version there too." Shane added, and Rick nodded.

"Very wise."

"Yes, sir. Mm-hm. Well," Shane said, his face losing the amusement and a sense of seriousness replacing it. Rick and Lori's failing marriage had been on his mind a while. He had always liked Lori, though he had never told Rick that, and she had started to confide in him about how she didn't see her and Rick ending in happily ever after any more. They were already talking about a more permanent separation and seeing divorce lawyers. It was basically over. "So, how's it with Lori, man?"

"She's good, she's good at turning off lights," Rick said, drawing a chuckle out of his best friend as he chewed on another French fry. "Really good. And I'm the one who sometimes forgets."

"Not what I meant." Shane said, rubbing his hands together, and wiping the napkins he had between his fingers to try and get rid of the greasiness.

"We didn't have a great night." Rick finally admitted, staring out the windshield at nothing in particular, just so he didn't have to look at his best friend with the sense of defeat and shame that he knew was in his eyes. Back in high school, if anybody asked which boy was most likely to get married and have it stick, they would have said 'Rick Grimes'. He was kinda ashamed to be failing in something that he should have been good at. Thea had always said that he would make a good husband for a good woman someday. Lori was a good woman, which obviously meant that he was the one who was failing.

"Hey, look, man, I may have failed to amuse with my sermon, but I did try. The least you can do is…is speak." Shane pressed, wanting to hear what his friend had to say about his deteriorating relationship with his wife. Or soon-to-be ex-wife.

"That's…that's what she always says. 'Speak…speak'. You'd think I was the most closed-mouth son of a bitch ever to hear her tell it." Rick said, rubbing his chin in frustration before pressing his index finger to his mouth to stop any more words from falling from his lips. His temporary separation from Lori was difficult, probably more so since neither of them had moved out from their shared house. It didn't feel like they were separated, just like they were ignoring each other.

"Do you express your thoughts? Do you share your feelings, that kind of stuff? Thea always said that women like that stuff." Shane asked, tilting his head to side as he questioned his friend, feeling slightly guilty to having a small ulterior motive to his concern.

"Thing is…lately, whenever I try, everything I say makes her impatient, like she didn't want to hear it after all. It's like she's…pissed at me all the time and I don't know why." Rick said, shrugging his shoulders out of frustration and exasperation.

"Look, man. That's just shit couples go through. Yeah, it's a phase."

"The last thing she said this morning, 'Sometimes I wonder if you even care about us at all.' Started talkin' about this divorce lawyer she had hired. Basically told me it was over, man. She said that in front of our kid. Imagine going to school with that in your head," Rick said, shaking his head at his wife's cruel words as they echoed around in his head. Lori had been so good at the start of their marriage, but as the years went on, their relationship soured. Maybe they had married too young, like his parents said. Maybe it was his lingering feelings for his best friend that had come between him and his wife. Whatever it was, Lori wasn't willing to work on things anymore from the sounds of it. "The difference between men and women? I would never say something that cruel to her, and certainly not in front of Carl."

The beeping of the radio scanner brought them out of the tense and really kind of depressing conversation they were having, bringing their attention to the crime in progress.

"_All available units, high-speed pursuit in progress. Linden County units request local assistance. Highway 18 eastbound, GTA, ADW, 2-17, 2-4-3,"_ Rick and Shane hurriedly packed away their food into the bag it had come in, as dispatch continued to describe the situation quickly. "_Advise extreme caution."_

Shane leaned out the window to dump their lunch in a trash can, as Rick turned on the sirens and careened out onto the road, speeding towards the expected route of the car chase. Shane pulled on his deputy hat and a pair of leather gloves on so he was ready to lay down the tire shredder strips. Neither man paid much attention to the two crows picking at the dead carcass of a cat on the road, as they practically flew by it. If they had, they might have shivered at the clear bad omen.

"_Suspects are two male Caucasians. Be advised, they have fired upon police officers. One Linden County officer is wounded." _

At this point, Rick and Shane were being followed by another police vehicle down the solitary back road that led out of the small town. It was quiet, apart from the loud, obnoxious wailing of the two sirens that disturbed the peace as justice sped down the road, eagerly waiting to dispense itself upon the unwitting criminals who were fast approaching their destination.

One police vehicle stopped along the road, at an angle to form half of a barricade, while Rick carried on forwards, before screeching to a stop. Shane quickly hopped out, dispatch's words becoming lost on him as he moved out of hearing range to the back of the car, grabbing the tire shredder strip from the trunk. He hurried around the car with it in his hands, and dropped one end of it on the ground by Rick's feet. Rick held it straight while his partner stretched it out across the road, and then they both climbed back into their vehicle, Rick using his rather impressive evasive driving to reverse quickly and then skid out of the way, forming a two vehicle barricade with their back-up.

All four police officers stepped out of the vehicles, each armed with a pistol or a shotgun. They all stood or crouched between the two cars, using them as cover in case they were fired upon by the two car thieves.

"Sounds like they chasing those idiots up and down every back road we've got." Sheriff's Deputy Lambert, a calm and cool cop, remarked, as he made sure his safety was off and lined up a shot, waiting for the perps to appear.

"Maybe we'll get on one of those police shows. Like "World's Craziest Police Chases". What do you think?" Leon, the bumbling idiot of the King County Police Department, mused excitedly. Leon was young and pretty dumb, and the rest of the department was always wondering how he got into the force in the first place.

"What I think, Leon, is you need to stay focused, make sure you've got a round in the chamber and your safety off." Rick said, resisting the urge to pistol whip the other deputy.

Police sirens wailed in the distance, as the four King County cops prepared themselves, the air having a tense feel to it.

"Would be kinda cool, getting on one of them shows." Shane broke the tension, smirking in his best friend's direction, and Rick rolled his eyes, and shook his head as the sound of sirens and car engines at full throttle grew ever closer.

The stolen car, a silver Camaro, came into view and Rick felt his heart pounding in his chest. That was normal. It was adrenaline speeding through his body, getting him ready for a confrontation.

The car hastened towards them, with two Linden County police cars in pursuit, and then they hit the shredders.

The car skidded across the road and for a brief moment, Rick thought that he, Shane and his two fellow officers were going to be in some serious trouble, until it started to roll into the verge. It finally stopped, having flipped over onto the roof in a mass of twisted and beat up metal. If the two suspects had managed to survive that, then God must have wanted them to receive justice, because otherwise there was no way they were walking away from that crash unscathed.

The four Linden County officers exited their cars, aiming their weapons at the crashed Camaro, just like Rick and his guys were. Rick and one of the Linden County cops started to slowly edge forwards, guns still raised as one of the thieves forced a car door open and stumbled out into the open, gun in hand.

"Gun, gun, gun!" One of the Linden cops shouted.

"Put it down!" Rick instructed, attempting to keep a calm and level head, as the perp started to fire at the Linden cops, clearly not wanting to do down without a fight. His fellow policemen fired back, though neither side was actually hitting their target. They were just wasting bullets, all of their shots going wide. "Put the gun down!"

Rick fired off five shots simultaneously, mostly in warning, but it only attracted the gunman's attention. The madman started shooting at him, and suddenly Rick was wishing he had stayed behind the cover of his and Shane's car. He took a bullet to his lower chest, and went down.

Shane saw his partner go down, and shot at the criminal with a renewed vigour. He managed to nail the bastard with three bullets in the chest, a strange sense of satisfaction blowing through him as he watched the asshole slump to the ground. Though he had to take cover when the other thief suddenly made himself known, with a volley of shotgun shells flying in Shane's direction, shattering the windscreen of his police car. Shane managed to fire another couple of rounds at the second gunman, but the Linden cops were the ones to finish it, taking the guy out with a shot to the chest.

"Rick!" Shane bellowed, fearing for his friend, whose body seemed to be convulsing on the grass.

"I'm all right!" Rick called back, wheezing as he struggled to right himself, managing to get up to his knees, as his friend and partner walked towards him, concern etched across his face.

"I saw you get tagged, man. Scared the hell out of me." Shane voiced his worry, eyes flitting between his best friend, as he got to his feet, and the wreckage of the once beautiful Camaro in case the criminals managed to get up again.

"Me too. That son of a bitch shot me. Can you believe that?" Rick questioned, his voice still thick with the shock of actually being shot, even if it hit him in the vest.

"What? It catch you in your vest?"

"Yeah," Rick replied, looking down at his chest before his eyes snapped back to his partner. "Shane, you do not tell Thea or Lori that happened. Ever. You understand?"

A single gunshot was heard and Rick cried out, pain searing through his back and into his chest. He dropped to the ground, everything becoming fuzzy to him but the pain. Rick blinked bleary eyed up at the sky, hearing a muffled gun shot, and then Shane's face came into view, felt his hands as he ripped open his shirt and tried to stop the bleeding, shouting orders to Leon over his shoulder.

Rick didn't hear his best friend's choked words of reassurance, he just heard a ringing in his ears. The sound of a gunshot reverberating in his mind over and over again, until it all faded to nothing.

He faded in and out, hearing bits and pieces of hushed conversations and emotional confessions.

At one point in his delirium he believed he heard Thea's voice in his ear, whispering she loved him, that she wanted him to wake up.

That's when he knew that he was dreaming, because he'd only heard her say those words in his dreams.

And then he woke up.

* * *

**A/N:**

Hello there!

So this is the prologue to my very first Walking Dead fan fiction.

I have quite a few planned out, but this is the first one to be published. It will be a Rick/OC story. As you can see, it will also be a bit AU. I wanted to play around with the whole Rick/Lori/Shane dynamic, by having Lori and Rick separated before the apocalypse. Not divorced, but separated. I think it will be interesting to see how things could have played out a little differently if there had been someone else involved, and if Rick and Lori had definitely called an end to their own relationship.

Anyway, so this is Exit Wounds. I hope you enjoyed it! If you look on my profile, you will see a list of proposed update dates, which I am fully aiming to keep to with all of the stories on there. Any story that you don't see on there is on hold for now.

The first chapter will also be up today, but in a couple of hours. So look out for that.

Please drop a review. Good reviews are my life blood.

Yours,

SophStratt.


	2. First Light

**"****Hell is empty and all the devils are here."**

-**Unknown**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE – First Light**

Just get in, grab the meds and go. In, snatch and out. That's how easy it was supposed to be. There wasn't supposed to be anyone left alive in the hospital and the only walkers that were in the hospital were behind locked doors. We needed medicine, and I had volunteered to be the one to get it. I couldn't let Morgan go, in case something happened, and leave poor Duane without a father, especially after what happened to his mother, Jenny.

One day everything was normal. I had come home from my latest tour in Afghanistan to visit one of my old best friends, who had managed to get himself shot in the line of duty as a sheriff's deputy. He was in a coma, and the doctors didn't know when he was going to wake up. Rick Grimes just laid there in a hospital bed, wearing a scratchy hospital gown, day after day, and it was horrible to witness. It had brought on an abundance of old memories and feelings, seeing him so lifeless but not so.

He was my best friend, and, once upon a time, the focus of all my teenage desires, along with Shane Walsh, and when we were kids we would all run around together, the three of us against the world. Until we grew up. Rick started dating Lori towards the end of high school, and they got married real young. Shane and Rick became cops, and I decided to join the army, partly to see more of the world and do some good, partly to get away from Rick and Lori's marriage. I would keep in contact, sending letters, photographs, postcards and a few phone calls each month, but it wasn't like it was before. Then he went and got himself shot, and, even after everything, I still couldn't help myself. I flew back home, and was by his side, consoling his wife (or soon-to-be ex-wife, according to her. Rick hadn't mentioned their separation during our last conversation, but apparently that's what they were), looking after his kid.

Then shit hit the fan. An infection spread around, bringing the dead back to life, sorta. The dead would wake up, but it was like the light inside their head had died and been replaced with one of those energy saving bulbs that only had enough power to emit a dim glow, rather than a brilliant light. The person they were before didn't come back. Instead all that was there was a deep hunger, a need to rip into flesh, to spread the infection further.

Lori and their son, Carl, my godson, left for Atlanta with Shane, while I stayed behind to help the military try and keep the numbers of the undead down, though I knew that wasn't the whole reason. Shane told us that Rick was dead and I knew that part of me just didn't want to leave him, dead or alive.

So I stayed, even when the army got overrun, and most of the walkers left, looking for a new food source. I found an empty house, near to Rick's now empty place, and fortified it. When Morgan, the injured Jenny and their son, Duane, arrived on my new doorstep, I let them in. Most people wouldn't nowadays, but I was determined not to lose my humanity.

I let them in, Jenny turned, and Morgan couldn't put her down. I led her outside and then when I had led her a distance away, I escaped her, and ran back to the house and barred the door again. She found her way back a lot, upsetting Duane, so Morgan and I tried to keep him inside the house, and away from the windows, as much as possible.

So when we decided that we would need more supplies, I volunteered, grabbing my pack and attaching the silencer to my Glock in case I ran into anyone unsavory. The walkers were attracted to noise, and I didn't want to have too many of them on my tail. I managed to get into the hospital alright, making my way to the South Wing Recovery Ward, already knowing from numerous visits before all this happened where the meds were kept.

I walked past the cafeteria, being as quiet as possible, not wanting to agitate the trapped walkers. I hadn't been inside the hospital since Shane had told me that Rick had died, but I knew that they were there from the writing on the door. _Don't open, dead inside. _I didn't want to run into Rick, if he had turned. I think I would be stuck like Morgan. Wanting to put him down, give him peace, but not being strong enough to do it. So I steered clear, until now.

I kept my gun out, the safety off, silencer attached, ready to take out anything that tried to attack me, as I made my way down the corridor to the pharmacy opposite the nurse's station. I quickly entered, checking for any walkers inside. Sometimes they would sit on the floor, waiting for their next meal to come to them and then would grab the idiot who thought that because it's on the ground and not moving that it's dead.

Seeing that it was empty, I quickly started to grab supplies, stuffing them all into a small black medical kit that I would stow in my backpack. It became clear to me that people had believed the hospital to be beyond hope, as there had been practically no looting here at all. Although some of the supplies had been knocked over, the pharmacy was still pretty much stocked full, so I grabbed as many boxes of medication as I could; antibiotics, anti-viral meds, pain relievers, contraceptive pills (it was an apocalypse but, on the off chance I did find someone I'd be willing to jump into bed with, I didn't want to take any unnecessary risks), allergy medicine and others.

I was organizing it all in the field kit, planning on raiding the nurse's station for gauze, bandages and antiseptics to treat any minor injuries I would need to treat in the future, when I heard a door open and a rattling as someone, or rather something, bumped into an abandoned gurney just down the hall. I quickly zipped up my bag, and slung it over my shoulders, withdrawing my gun again. I moved into the shadows by the door, pressing my back to the wall, but keeping the nurses' station in my sight.

The padding of feet moved closer, and I saw the silhouette of a person by the nurse's station. I didn't move, hoping that it wouldn't pick up my scent. I had prayed that I would avoid bumping into any walkers, especially if it were Rick, but it seemed that God had simply stopped listening to my prayers. A gentle crash brought me out of my thoughts, as the walker knocked the phone over, and started searching for food on the desk.

I watched it, not wanting to waste a bullet on a single walker, and only realized that the person was not as dead as I thought when I saw him light a match.

That's when I decided to come out. He was clearly unarmed, so the only threat would be me.

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice quiet and level as I held the man at gun point. It was too dark to fully make out his face, but he was definitely a patient, with the gown pillowing out around him and a bandage wrapped around his lower chest. The man seemed to be speechless, probably hadn't seen another person in a while, and just stared at me. "Answer me, or, so help me God, I will shoot you. I will fucking shoot you, unless you speak right now!"

"Thea?" The man croaked, but the voice was familiar. I reached behind me, and grabbed my torch from my backpack. I hadn't wanted to use it, in case the light drew attention, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

I clicked it on and the small beam of light almost burned my eyes after they had adapted to the dark. I lifted it to the man's face, and almost dropped everything in my hands.

This couldn't be happening.

It was impossible. He was dead, which meant that I was either now dead myself or I had finally snapped after everything that had happened and everything I had seen.

It couldn't possibly be him.

"You're dead. They told me you were dead." I said, tears rolling down my cheeks, my hands tightening around my torch and gun, not willing to let my guard down for a hallucination.

"I'm not dead. It's me. It's Rick." He said, his strong Georgian accent soothing me as he stepped closer, his hands held up. He looked like shit. He was thinner, his bandage was disgusting, and he looked unsteady on his feet. I tried to swallow, but it was difficult due to the emotional clot in my throat.

"You been bit?" I questioned, not lowering my gun, pushing off a proper reunion until I was certain that it was safe. I couldn't risk my life with people depending on me.

"Bit?" He said, sounding confused.

"Yeah, bit. As in 'bitten'. As in 'did someone take a bite outta you?'"

"T, what are you talkin' about?" I realized then that he really did not know what I was talking about, and I lowered my gun slowly, unsurely. "What's goin' on? Where is everybody? Where's Carl and Lori? And Shane?"

"You shouldn't be talkin', Rick. I take it you just woke up, and you'll need all the strength you have to get outta here with me," I said, as I hurried round the side of the nurses station, and grabbed all the bandages, antiseptic wipes and cream, gauze, a pair of tweezers, a pair of scissors, as well as disposable gloves, safety pins, sticky tape, band aids and a couple bottles of water I found in one of the cupboards before packing it all away in my backpack. "Because I'm gettin' you outta here now to somewhere safe."

I moved towards Rick, grabbed his hand and dragged him down the dark hallway, moving slower than normal as he was understandably weaker than he had been three months ago. He looked so sick, and I could see the sweat beading along his forehead as he pushed himself to move faster. Rick tugged on my hand, pulling us to a stop as his eyes trailed around the hall, soaking up the horrifying images of blood pools, bullet holes and then the door to the canteen. He stared at the words sprayed across the door in complete perturbation. _DON'T OPEN, DEAD INSIDE _was the message that had thrown my best friend for a loop, especially when the door started to rattle as though it was trying to be opened.

"They've smelled us." I whispered to him, as we backed away slightly and I raised my Glock again. Soft, throaty moans started to erupt from behind the doors, as they started to open slightly, stopped by the chains and wood plank. When the hands started to reach out for us, the door shaking violently under the pressure of all the dead on the other side, I pulled Rick with me and pushed through the double doors next to us, and headed for the staircase next to the elevator. The elevators were fucked anyway.

I handed Rick my torch, then grabbed his hand again, both needing to help him forward and needing to convince myself he was real and alive. We took the stairs slowly. Rick was still weak after all, and I didn't want to push him too hard, since we were going to have to move quickly when we got outside. Once we stepped off the last step, I let go of his hand, taking the flashlight from him and stowing it back in my backpack.

Taking his hand again, I pushed open the fire exit slowly with my hip, and blinked rapidly as I tried to readjust to daylight. Rick was doing the same, and I gazed at him a moment, not really knowing how to prepare him for the next traumatizing sight he was about to see. If he had thought that inside the hospital had been bad…things were infinitely worse outside.

Bodies were lined up in rows, wrapped in dirty old sheets and left to rot. It looked so callous to just leave the bodies on the ground like that, attracting flies and starving animals, but at the time, the army had no choice. We were being overrun, and we hadn't had the time to start digging graves or even piling them up to burn them. It wasn't humane to leave them the way we had, but post-outbreak, it was every man, woman and child for themselves. It isn't about what's right or what's wrong now, at least to most people. It was about survival.

I watched Rick, as his eyes widened in both fear and emotional agony. He probably didn't know half of these people, but they were all dead and probably had no one to mourn for them now. I think this was his moment of harsh realization. I don't think that the inside of the hospital…what he had seen in there…I don't think that had cut it. The bodies lined up in neat, efficient, little rows, all rotting flesh and buzzing flies…that's what got to him. Made him realize that this wasn't the world he had left behind when he got shot and put into a coma.

This was a whole new world.

Rick stumbled down the metal steps that led to the ground, and I followed silently behind him, my gun raised as my eyes raked across the area for walkers, occasionally flickering back to my best friend as we slowly moved past the deceased. Rick was trembling and looked like he was trying to decide whether to cry or scream. Mostly he looked traumatized.

"I'm sorry, hon, but we've got to move faster. We can't be out in the open for too long." I felt like such a heartless bitch for pushing him, but we were too vulnerable where we were. If a group of walkers sniffed out our scent, and came towards us, we'd have no choice but to run into the hospital. The hospital was not defendable anymore, plus there were already walkers in there. The hospital was a no go.

We had to head to my car as quickly and as quietly as possible, but Rick was slow, having only just woken up from a three month long coma. I'm surprised that he was able to walk properly. We walked out of the entrance way, and then we were faced with a climb up a large grassy hill. Knowing that his legs were still somewhat weak, I pulled Rick closer to me, and draped his arm around my shoulder, wrapping my free arm around his waist to help him. It was still a little too slow moving, but once we made it up the hill, my Explorer, that I had 'borrowed' from one of Rick's neighbors, who weren't lucky enough to get out of King County, since Lori had mine, was in sight.

All we had to do was maneuver the abandoned temporary army base. Together, we trudged past abandoned helicopters, jeeps, tanks…any tents left behind were in tatters. Rick was still looking around with horror in his eyes, but he still didn't ask the one question that I had been preparing an answer for since I found him. _What the fuck happened here?_

Luckily, there wasn't any walkers around, so we managed to get to the Explorer without any trouble. They were pretty quiet during the day, the walkers that is. They only got riled up when there was a lot of noise, or when they smelt fresh meat.

I helped Rick into the car before rushing around the front, and climbing into the driver's seat.

I spared another glance at Rick, and could tell that he was falling apart at the seams. It made my heart hurt. The Rick I knew was a happy guy, all warm smiles and twinkling blue eyes. This Rick…he had woken to a world that was broken and full of danger and uncertainty, one full of the dead who feasted on the living. I guess I could understand if he had a mental breakdown, though I kinda hoped he wouldn't. I wasn't really in the right frame of mind to deal with it, which sounds kind of selfish, but he wasn't the only one who was now dealing with this massive change. Everybody was.

I started up the Explorer, and pulled away almost too sharply, jolting Rick out of wherever his mind had gone to.

He stared at me as I drove, before tentatively reaching across the space between us and placing his hand on my shoulder. Since I wasn't expecting it, I jumped at the sudden feel of his hand, and almost swerved across the road.

"Jesus, Rick. Scared the crap out of me." I said, shooting him a small smile, resisting the urge to place a hand over my rapidly beating heart.

"This ain't real. This is a dream. You're not here." Rick said, and I shot him a worried glance. My eyes scanned his face quickly, before returning to the road. He was sweating and pale. He'd overexerted himself too soon after waking up, and it was partially my fault. I couldn't feel guilty though. I couldn't just leave him there, with no clothes and a dirty bandage wrapped around his bullet wound. He was my best friend and he needed me.

"I'm here, Rick. It's real, I promise." I tried to assure him, but he just shook his head, his blue eyes widening.

"No, you're half a world away. You ain't with me. It's a dream. It's all a dream."

Rick started to sob, and I felt my heart shatter as he continued to insist that I wasn't there. To be fair to him, he wakes up from his coma, in an abandoned hospital, that's got dead people lined outside of it, and his best friend, who he thinks is supposed to be in Afghanistan, is suddenly in front of him. It's almost rational for him to think, after the emotional trauma he had just experienced, to believe that he was having some trippy coma dream.

I felt tears pricking in my eyes when he started to mumble to himself to wake up, and I took one hand of the steering wheel and grabbed his hand in mine, squeezing it tightly, trying my hardest to make him see that I was really me, that I was really with him.

He didn't even seem to notice my hand in his, but, for a second, I had to put this problem aside as we had pulled up outside the home that Morgan, Duane and I were temporarily living in. It was a couple doors down from Rick's place, not that he noticed as he continued to mumble to himself.

I couldn't stay in Rick's place, the home he had shared with his wife and son, it felt weird. Whenever I was on leave and I would come home to King County, I would always stay with Shane. It was fun at his place, at least when he was single. When he wasn't, let's just say that Shane dated quite a few questionable personalities which were not so fun to be around.

Reluctantly letting go of Rick, I climbed out of the Explorer, and saw Duane at the door, waiting for me. I smiled at him, before circling around the car again to help Rick out. Except when I opened the door, he almost fell on top of me. It seemed his energy supply was running on empty. No surprise there. He hadn't been fed in two months. It's a miracle he survived.

"Carl. T. Lori." Rick kept mumbling in his hysteria, over and over again.

"Duane, get your daddy to come out here and help me!" I called to Duane, and he rushed back inside, panic clear on his face.

Rick didn't exactly look healthy. Duane was probably thinking the worst. I pulled on Rick, but he was practically unconscious now, so, this time, he really did fall on top of me. I struggled to get out from underneath him, and began to panic slightly when I heard the telltale groans of an approaching walker.

Suddenly there was a gunshot, and the walker dropped dead in the middle of the street. He must have been a businessmen or something, the tattered, bloodstained suit and ruined brogue shoes a tell-tale sign, but that didn't really matter anymore. None of that mattered anymore.

Suddenly a pair of scuffed, dusty boots blocked my vision, and Morgan was pointing his gun at the back of Rick's head.

"Is he bit?" Morgan asked, as he helped me move Rick off of me with his spare hand. I didn't answer straight away, as I pushed myself up onto my haunches, tucking my arms underneath Rick's as I prepared to carry him. When I gestured at Rick's feet with a nod of my head, expecting him to help me carry him, Morgan pushed for answers. "What's his wound, T?"

"Gun shot. He's the guy I told you about. I thought he was dead, but he's not. I need to get him inside and check that his wound isn't infected." I snapped, my patience quickly running out the longer that Morgan hesitated. I needed to help Rick, and we needed to get inside. That gunshot would have attracted all the walkers from the general area to where we were, and we needed to get inside before they arrived.

"Did you check for bites? How do you know he isn't bitten?" Morgan demanded, and I looked up at him, my eyes dark.

"I took a chance on your wife. One that very nearly cost me my life. You owe it to me to take a chance on him." I realized that it was a low blow, but desperate times and all that.

Morgan stared at me for a moment, before he tucked his gun into the waistband of his jeans and grabbed Rick's feet, helping me heave him inside. Together we carried him into the house, and into one of the bedrooms so we could place him on the bed. After I had finished getting some of the gauze and medical tape out of the bag, as well as some of the antiseptic, I turned around and my eyes widened at what I saw.

"What are you doing?" I questioned, as Morgan continued to tie Rick's arms to the bed posts either side of his head.

"Until we check him over, I just want to take this precaution," Morgan stated, and quickly cut me off when I opened my mouth to protest. "You were right, outside. You let me and my family in here at great personal risk and it…backfired. I just want to be sure this time."

I was very unsure about it. I mean, Rick had already had one rude awakening today, but at the same time, I understood where Morgan was coming from. We hadn't taken the necessary precautions last time and his recently turned wife had almost taken a bite out of his son. So instead of arguing, I just nodded and let him continue, if only for his peace of mind, but for Duane's as well.

Once we had cleaned and dressed his wound, I told Morgan and Duane to go into the other room and wait there and cook some dinner. Morgan had opened his mouth to protest, but I gave him a particularly dark look and he relented, ushering Duane out of the room and closing the door behind them.

I sat in a chair by Rick's side, washing the sweat off his face, neck and chest with a damp rag while he lay there still unconscious. When that was done, I had nothing to do but wait. I stared at him, only feeling a little bit creepy, marveling over the fact that he was still here. He was alive. I almost couldn't wrap my head around it, because Shane had seemed so sure that he was dead.

_While Shane was at the hospital getting Rick, I was packing up Lori and Carl at their place. _

_"__Lori, take whatever you need to get to Atlanta. Clothes, food, water…whatever," I shouted to her, as I helped Carl pack his stuff into a duffel bag I had given to him. Carl was sitting on his bed, looking like he was about to cry. He was just a kid, twelve years old, he probably didn't understand. "Carl, sweetie, you read comics right?"_

_"__Yeah." He sniffed._

_"__You ever read any about zombies?" I questioned, as I stuffed a few pairs of his underwear into the bag that was next to him._

_"__Yeah. Is that's what's happening, Aunt T?" Carl asked, and I looked at him._

_"__You know that I would never do anything to purposefully scare you, right? You know that I would never lie to you, yeah?" When Carl nodded, I continued. "I saw a man bite another man's ear off, and not in a Mike Tyson way, do you understand? I watched a man who had been bitten die and wake up again and start walking. But there's a safe place in Atlanta. Shane and I are gonna take you, your dad and your mom there. Where it's safe."_

_"__Dad's coming?"_

_"__Shane's gone to get him from the hospital," I replied, as I packed a few shirts and jeans into the bag as well. I heard Shane rush into the house, and then heard him say something to Lori that I couldn't quite make out so I decided to go investigate. "Pack your school books and a few comics you want, but don't make it too heavy, okay? If you don't pack your school books, I ain't gonna save you from your mom."_

_I left Carl in his room, and found Lori and Shane in the master bedroom, and Lori was shaking her head at Shane, crying. _

_"__What's wrong? Did you get Rick?" I questioned, and Shane turned to me and I could see it in his face without even hearing the words. "You didn't get him."_

_"__I tried, T. He's gone. I really tried, T! There were soldiers shooting people in the hallways, and those dead things and everybody panicking, and I couldn't hear Rick's heart beating. I tried, Thea. I'm sorry." _

_I felt like for a moment my heart stopped. My knees felt weak, and tears started rolling down my cheeks. I was a soldier. I had seen dozens of men die on the battlefield, men I had bonded with as we trained and worked together, but out there you get desensitized to it. Rick was different. He was my best friend and I'd been in love with him most of my life. I clamped a hand over my mouth as I tried to muffle my sobs, and Lori quickly moved towards me and wrapped her arms around me. We clung to each other, his would-be ex-wife and his best friend, crying over the good man we had both lost. _

I thought I would never see him alive again. Inwardly, I had been steeling myself to see him as a walker. I knew how painful it was for Morgan each time his wife walked by the house, how it made Duane cry to hear his dead mother as she rattled the door knob again only to walk away. I knew why Morgan didn't shoot Jenny. He couldn't bring himself to do it. Just like I was pretty sure that if I stumbled across Rick's reanimated corpse, I would have just run in the opposite direction.

So now I waited for him to wake up.

* * *

**A/N:**

Hello Guys!

This is the first chapter of my new story. What do you think?

We'll get to know more about Thea and Rick and all of that further on, but what do you think of her right now?

The next chapter will be in three weeks, I hope you guys will look forward to it.

Please give me some positive feedback and some constructive criticism!

Lots of love, guys!

SophStratt.


	3. Base Camp

**"****When you truly love someone,**

**Love them with your soul,**

**Then the feeling never stops.**

**Never."**

**-Unknown**

* * *

**Chapter Two – Base Camp**

"So it wasn't a dream."

I had been resting my eyes for about five minutes when Rick's croaky voice brought me back into the here and now. I opened my eyes and found him gazing at me with those bright baby blues that always made me melt when I was just a teenager.

"You're awake," I smiled, tears shining in my eyes, before I called for Morgan. "You don't understand how happy I am to see you awake. You scared the crap out of me, Grimes. We thought you were dead."

Before Rick could say anything in reply, Morgan walked into the room, with his son following behind and wielding a baseball bat.

"Got that bandage changed now. It was pretty rank," Morgan said, as he stepped further into the room. Duane came to stand behind me, trying to look as threatening as possible as he guarded me from my best friend, who was still tied to the bed. "What was the wound?"

"I told you already. He was shot three months ago. He was in a coma for a month before all this mess."

"You checked him for a fever?" Morgan asked me, directing his gaze to me instead of Rick.

"Feels cool enough," I said, after I had reached forward and gently placed a hand on Rick's forehead. "Fever would've killed you by now. You're lucky, Rick Grimes. Two months you've been sleeping in that hospital, all alone."

Morgan pulled out his knife from his back pocket, and showed Rick the blade as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Take a moment, look how sharp it is. You try anything, I will kill you with it. And don't you think I won't," Morgan said, as he reached over Rick to cut the rope that bound him to the bed. "T says you're her best friend from her school years, that you're a good guy. I hope she's right."

Rick looked over at me, as he rubbed his sore wrists and I smiled at him, trying to reassure him that I hadn't brought him into a house with a crazy murderer.

"Come out when you're able." Morgan said, as he ushered Duane out the room again, though I knew he was still reluctant to leave me in here alone with my old friend.

I watched silently as Rick sat himself up, and then he glanced at me again. Like he still thought I was a dream. I climbed to my feet, only to perch on the edge of the bed, wrapping my arms around my best friend, tears building in my eyes again. Rick leaned into my embrace, and I felt his arms circle me, one hand on the small of my back, the other tangling itself in my hair. The familiarity of it all almost made me sob, but I held it in. God knows that I don't need to make things worse for him by unleashing a few months of emotional turmoil on him all at once.

"I thought I'd lost you," I sighed, as I held him as tightly as I could, without aggravating his wound. I gave him one last squeeze before I let him go. "Morgan's cooked some stew or something out there, so come get something to eat when you're ready."

I was almost out the door when Rick called my name. I turned back to him, standing in the doorway.

"How're you here?" Rick questioned.

"Don't be an idiot, Rick Grimes. You get yourself shot, where'd you think I'd be?" I smiled at the grin he gave me, clearly my answer had made him happy in some weird way, but that made me happy as well. I was just happy in general. My best friend, who I had thought was dead, was alive and well and grinning like an idiot. If we took away the fact that his estranged wife and son weren't here as well, and the walkers, and everything bad that had happened in the past two months…life would be great.

I moved into the dining room, and began helping Duane set the table for dinner. We were lucky that King County was pretty much abandoned, because people had left kitchens full of food that we were able to help ourselves to when walkers weren't roaming around. Morgan and I took it in turns to go out scavenging, though I tried to do the supply runs more than him. He had a son to think about, and I didn't really have anybody.

Until now. Now I have Rick.

"Who's this guy again?" Duane asked me, his voice quiet. We couldn't make too much noise now that it was dark outside. The walkers would tear the house down otherwise.

"He's my best friend." I replied, just as Rick walked, still a little unsteady, into the room with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. I smiled at him and gestured at him to sit down.

"He a Ranger too?" Duane questioned.

"He look like he was a Ranger?" I poked fun out of Rick, causing all three men, well two and a half men, to crack a small smile. "I worked with guys who could probably snap his skinny butt in half. Big guys who packed a lot of muscle and could kill a man dead with just a sharp poke to the chest."

"My butt's skinny?" Rick questioned, and I let out a quiet laugh.

"Is he blue?" Duane asked, and I nodded, ignoring Rick's inquisitive glance.

"We're all five by five here, little D. Rick ain't in any condition to be red. Plus, you don't know him like I do, " I replied, running a comforting hand over Duane's dark hair, trying to give as warm a smile as I could muster. "He's as blue as blue gets."

"Red and blue? Five by five?" Rick asked, as he hovered around, with both Morgan and I watching him closely, but for two different reasons. Morgan still didn't know if his son was at risk, and I still didn't know if Rick was okay.

"Army terms. Blue is true, red is dead. If you're blue, you're a friendly. If you're a red, you ain't so friendly. Five by five is just a radio signal we used, it usually means everything is good or you're okay," I answered him, as Duane and I took our seats at the table. "I left one war to come fight a completely different one. New battleground, new insurgents, new rules of combat. The whole world has truly gone to shit."

"Swear." Duane nudged me under the table, and I muttered my apology.

"This place…Fred and Cindy Drake's?" Rick asked, as he padded into the living room, holding his blanket around his naked torso.

"Yeah. Being in your place felt…wrong and pretty much everybody packed up their stuff and hit the road just before the army was overrun. I wanted to stay close." I answered him, as he moved further into the living room.

He was just about to reach out and moved one of the window covers when Morgan stopped him sharply.

"Don't do that," I watched Morgan's words make Rick pause, his head turning back to gaze at us in confusion. "They'll see the light. There's more of them out there than usual. I never should have fired that gun today. Sound draws them. Now they're all over the street. Stupid, using a gun."

"It was my fault you had to fire a shot in the first place. It all happened so fast, there wasn't much time for thinking things through." I replied, my eyes on him as he sat down. Rick had made his way towards us, and now was staring at us like we had grown two or three heads over the space of three minutes.

"You shot that man today!" Rick stated, and Morgan, Duane and I exchanged looks. Rick weren't getting it. This world he had woken up in, it wasn't the world he had left behind the day he got shot.

"Man?" Morgan scoffed.

"It weren't no man." Duane added, receiving a dark look from his father and an amused look from me, as I knew where this was headed.

"What the hell was that outta your mouth?" Morgan scolded his son for his poor English.

My eyes darted to Rick, which only added my amusement, as he was clearly incredulous that this supposed murderer could talk so casually about killing and then berate his son for poor grammar at the same time.

"It wasn't a man."

"You shot him in the street out front, a man." Rick pressed, and I cleared my throat to get my old friend's attention. When his pretty blues were on me, I tried to explain things to him.

"That wasn't a man, Rick. That was a walker. That's what we call them, at least. He wasn't alive, not properly. Just sit down and eat something, before you give me a brain aneurysm outta worry."

Morgan spooned some stew into Rick's bowl, and I pulled out Rick's chair for him, which he quickly collapsed into. He was still weak, and he was still covered with a thin sheen of sweat, but I still couldn't take my eyes off him. He was real. He was here. He wasn't dead. Rick was alive. I wasn't gonna let him out of my sight ever again, not for one second.

Rick was about to tuck into his food when Duane interrupted him.

"Daddy, blessing."

"Yeah." Morgan smiled at his son, taking his offered hand. I took Morgan's hand, my eyes still on Rick, as he seemed a little frustrated that we were doing this. It was probably because his stomach was so empty that it was working off his fat.

It was Duane's way of holding on to some normalcy, so if he wanted to say grace, then we would say grace. Rick reluctantly took Duane's hand, and I held mine out to him, noticing he didn't actually hesitate to hold mine. I smiled warmly at him, and listened to Morgan as he began the blessing.

"Lord, we thank thee for this food, thy blessings. And we ask you to watch over us in these crazy days. Amen."

"Amen." We all chorused solemnly, before beginning to tuck into our food.

We ate slowly, trying to savor every morsel. We would have to move out soon. The town was almost picked bare to its bones, finding food in the empty houses was becoming difficult now. Most people took what they could carry and anything that was left we had mostly eaten already, bar a small supply in the kitchen and an emergency supply I had left hidden in one of the bedrooms upstairs that would be easily barricaded should a few walkers try break in.

"Hey, Rick, wasn't it? You even know what's going on?" Morgan asked him, and my eyes flickered between the two men. Morgan was looking at him curiously, and Rick just stared back impassively until he answered Morgan's question.

"I woke up today in the hospital, Thea found me and that's all I know." Rick said, as he dropped his eyes to his bowl. I took his free hand in mine, and squeezed it gently, trying to show him I was here.

"But you know about the dead people?"

"Yeah, I saw a lot of that. Out on the loading dock, piled in trucks."

"He's not talking about the ones we put down, Rick. The ones we couldn't, the walkers. Like the one Morgan shot today. The man in the suit." I said, keeping my voice as gentle as I could as Rick looked up at me with that confused puppy dog expression that made me want to melt and cry at the same time. It was like trying to explain death to a four-year-old.

"Cos he'd have ripped into you, then T, tried to eat you, taken some flesh at least. Well, I guess if this is the first you're hearing it, I know how it must sound." Morgan added, and I could see Rick trying to swallow this information.

It would sound crazy to someone who only thought this sort of stuff happened in the movies or in comic books, but this was real life now. Real people getting bit and turning into real monsters. A horror movie come to life. It was like a never ending nightmare now.

"I told you, Morgan. He was shot three months ago. He was already in a coma a month before the outbreak hit." I murmured, spooning some stew into my mouth and swallowing it without tasting it. Everything tasted so bland now anyway. Spices and crap like that were practically the most precious of luxuries now.

"They're out there now in the street?" Rick questioned.

"Yeah. They get more active after dark sometimes. Maybe it's the cool air or…Hell, maybe it's just me firing that gun today. But we'll be fine as long as we stay quiet. Probably wander off by morning," Morgan informed him, before he shifted forward slightly, clasping his hands together and his tone getting a little softer. "But listen. One thing I do know. Don't you get bit. I saw your bandage and that's what we were afraid of. I know what T told me, but anything coulda happened to you in the hospital since it was overrun."

"The bites kill you. You contract a fever and it burns you out. Only after a while, you come back." I supplied, eyes on my half-eaten stew. I was sitting directly across from Duane and I couldn't look him in the eyes as I spoke about the sickness that took his mother.

"Seen it happen." Duane said, and I didn't have to look up to know the heartache that would have filled his sweet face.

"Why don't we finish our food before it gets cold? I haven't been risking my neck for crappy canned food so we can stare at it." I said, finally looking up and forcing a smile onto my face for Duane and Rick.

From then on, we ate in silence, the only sound to be heard was Rick's sometimes haggard breathing and the clinking of spoons on china. Once the food had been consumed, Duane and Morgan went to wash the bowls up, while I set up a bed for Rick on the floor in the living next to mine. We slept in there, all together, because the bedroom was tainted by the death of Morgan's wife, and so we could watch each other's backs when one of us was on watch.

"Okay, so you're all set up over here," I said to Rick, keeping my voice quiet since we were in the front of the house now. I saw Morgan walk in and smiled at him and Duane. "Is it alright if you take first watch?"

"You got it. Get some sleep, I know you ain't been getting a lot of it. Maybe with your friend here, you'll actually listen to me for a change." Morgan said, making Rick chuckle at my expense.

I rolled my eyes as I settled down on the thin mattress, pulling the thick blanket we had taken from upstairs over me. Duane followed my lead and settled in for the night. The kid crashed out nearly instantly, but he probably wasn't fully asleep. No one slept soundly anymore. Everyone was on edge when night fell. Walkers got more active at night. Everything was quiet for a long time until the two men started to converse quietly. Probably didn't realize I was still awake.

"So you and Thea, huh? Just old friends?" Morgan questioned, and I inwardly rolled my eyes. Morgan and I had become good friends since he and his family had quite literally stumbled into my life. One thing I had learned about him was he was actually quite nosy.

"We've been best friends our whole lives, yeah." Rick said, and, even though I knew it was irrational and stupid because he was married and I'd come to peace with that years ago, my heart still ached a little from his words.

"The way she talked about you…I figured there must be more than what she was saying."

"Coulda been when we were kids. Too scared to ruin what we had, I guess," Rick replied, and I tried my hardest not to beam in what was supposed to be my sleep. Instead, I pretended to shift in my sleep, so my back was now facing them. "Things probably woulda turned out a lot differently if I'd asked her out, like my buddy told me to."

It was silent for a moment, but it just gave me time to process it all. Did Shane tell Rick to ask me out when we were kids? So why didn't he? Shane must've known that I woulda said yes, which is why he told Rick to do it, so why didn't Rick just ask?

"Carl. That your kid?" Morgan asked to change the subject, and I smiled slightly at the mention of Carl. I missed him.

"He's a little younger than your boy."

"I know," Morgan replied, and Rick must've given him a look of confusion as Morgan quickly continued talking. "T talks about him a lot. She's got three sets of initials on her wrist. Asked her who they were. Didn't seem to want to talk about the RG guy so much, but Carl Grimes wasn't so much of a sore spot. She's your boy's godmother, right?"

"Yeah. Only person I knew who'd love my kid no matter what," Rick stated, and I had to bite back another smile. He wasn't wrong. I'd kill for his kid. Carl was the sweetest, coolest kid I'd ever known and he was part Rick, which meant I'd love him always. "She know where he is?"

"I asked. She said right at the start, she sent him and your wife off in her car-" Morgan began to answer, but Rick cut him off with one word.

"Ex-wife." So it was true. They were on the brink of divorce. Rick always sounded happy when we spoke about him and Lori on the phone. I mean, I had guessed that the excitement had fizzled out, but that was practically normal for marriage. I didn't know that they were that unhappy to split up.

"T never said anything 'bout that. Anyway, she said she sent them following some cop friend in his Jeep. It wasn't safe here anymore and T stayed behind to help the army until they were overrun. Had to hide in a tank apparently for a couple of days until the herd dissipated and she managed to sneak back here. Set up camp and survived on her own until we showed up," Morgan chuckled, and I wondered why until he carried on talking about me. "Strongest woman I've ever met. The kindest too. Took me and my family in, gave us food and water and a roof over our heads. I'll never be able to repay her."

"You could start by shutting up and letting me sleep." I joked, keeping my eyes closed and not turning round to see their reactions.

"You been listening this whole time?" Rick questioned, nudging me.

"Girls eavesdrop. It's in our DNA. Get over it." I muttered, nudging him back with my foot.

That's when the car alarm started blaring outside. Both Duane and I bolted upright, both of us wary of the sound. Morgan grabbed his son, started to try and calm him down, while I moved into a crouch, my training kicking in, and pulled out my pistol.

"One of them must've bumped a car." Morgan uttered, as he held his son's shaking body against his side.

"Are you sure?" Rick asked, as he stood up as well.

"It happened once before. Went on for a few minutes," Morgan informed him, as all three adults moved to dim the lights. "T and I were going to disable the alarm after she got back from the hospital, but with all the excitement, we forgot."

Once we'd gotten rid of most of the light in the room, I moved towards the window, with Rick and Morgan on my six, and looked out of the tiny space that served as a lookout spot. I instantly spotted the car that was sounding off, and sighed, moving away from the window so Morgan and Rick could get a look.

"It's the blue one on the street, the same one as last time," Morgan said, as Rick checked it out, the alarm still blaring. I slumped down onto my makeshift bed, Glock still in hand, and, feeling more tired than I had in weeks, rested my head on my knees. Duane shuffled past me, going to stand with Rick and Morgan, finding another little gap to look outside from. "I think we're okay."

"That noise, won't it bring more of them?" Rick questioned, and I raised my head to answer him.

"Yeah, it will, but there's nothing we can do about it now. We just have to wait them out. By morning, most of them will be gone."

Suddenly, Duane gasped, and I braced myself, knowing that it could only mean one thing.

"She's here."

"Don't look. Get away from the windows," Morgan instructed his son, but, for a moment, it seemed like Duane was transfixed, stuck to the very spot where he stood. Morgan nudged Duane's shoulder, trying to get him to move. "I said go. Go on."

Duane turned, practically threw himself onto his and his dad's makeshift bed, and began to sob. I squeezed my eyes closed at the sound of it, feeling my heart ache for him. Just as I got up to move to comfort him, Morgan beat me there. He pulled his son into his lap, and wrapped his arm around his son, trying to get him to be a little quieter. If Duane cried too loudly, he'd attract the walkers, and there were too many out on the street for us to get away from or survive.

I turned away from the boy's suffering, focusing on Rick instead as he continued to watch the scene outside…until he stumbled towards the front door, squinting out the peep hole instead. I could imagine exactly what he was seeing. Jenny shuffling up the porch to the front door, her eyes wide and vacant and a large bite on her shoulder that probably still dripped dark blood onto her white nightgown.

"It's okay. Here, cry into the pillow. You remember?" I heard Morgan mutter to Duane, as he held his son to him and place the pillow above his head, leaving some space for Duane to actually breathe.

I could hear the heavy footsteps of Jenny now. She was right outside the door. The doorknob started to rattle and I held my breath and closed my eyes. Sometimes I wish that I had put her out of her misery when Morgan and Duane brought her here, but Morgan had wanted to be the one to do it. And then he couldn't. So now we had to suffer through this.

Rick backed up, and dropped onto the mattress next to me, his hand reaching out to grasp mine tightly. I looked at him, and saw the slight fear and confusion in his eyes that upset me. He had literally been thrown into this world with no clue as to what was going on or where his family was or why it was all happening. I mean, the rest of us had no clue either, but at least we had an idea what was happening. Rick had been in the dark for two months and was suddenly being blinded by the bright light we had all but burned his retinas with. I rested my head on his shoulder, seeking comfort from him as the door handle continued to shake, and he wrapped his arm around mine, pulling me closer to him.

"She died in the other room on that bed in there. There was nothing I could do about it," Morgan said, his voice breaking in parts from the emotional duress he was under. "That fever, man, her skin gave off heat like a furnace. I should've put her down, man. I should have put her down. I know that, but I…You know what? I just didn't have it in me."

Morgan was crying now, and my heart went out to him. While Rick wasn't mine, he was still the love of my life, and for two months I had believed him to be dead. I knew how it felt to feel that hopelessness.

"She was the mother of your child," I said, my voice just loud enough for him to hear me. "I should have done it. I shouldn't have left that burden on your shoulders."

"You've done more than enough for my family. I couldn't have asked you to do that. Not that."

The conversation stopped there. There was no point arguing with him. He was a man still grieving the loss of his wife, and he would never find any peace with it. Not with her reanimated corpse still walking around and coming back to the house each night.

The doorknob still rattled as Jenny tried to enter the house, and only when it ceased, did I allow myself to settle against Rick and fall asleep, hoping that now he was here, it would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

* * *

**A/N:**

Hey guys!

So this is one day early because I'm going to watch Fast and Furious 7 at the cinema tomorrow with my brother and his girlfriend. I will be taking tissues because I know that I'm going to cry.

That means that this week you may just get two chapters if I find time to post tomorrow as well. Lucky you guys!

So Rick and Thea are properly reunited in this chapter and we start to see some of their friendship and get a little more detail from Rick in terms of where he is in his relationship with Lori. Also I kinda loved Duane, and I'm certain this comes out in this chapter. Duane was an awesome little dude and I'm sad that he was killed and we never got to see him again.

Also you may have noticed that there are a lot of military terms in here. I tried to use military slang as Thea is a soldier. The only female member of the 75th Ranger Regiment to be precise. Technically this is impossible, because, according to my research, women aren't allowed to join the Rangers. But that's what I envisioned Thea to be, so that's what she is. I'm using a little creative freedom here. So I thought I write down what each military term means in case anybody gets confused;

**Blue** \- Blues are friendly/allies. When Duane asks Thea is Rick is blue, he's asking her if he's safe to be around. If he's a friend.

**Five by five** \- means 'I'm okay' or 'we're okay'. It's usually used as a radio signal.

**Red - **Reds are the enemy. Thea tells Duane that Rick couldn't even be a 'red' at that time if he tried because he's still pretty physically weak at that time.

**Ranger** \- Like I explained above, Thea is part of the 75th Ranger Regiment. It's an elite special operations force in the US Army. One of the reasons that I chose the Rangers to be the regiment that Thea is a part of is because the regiment headquarters is based at Fort Benning in Georgia, aka one of the places that the group tries to head towards. Being a Sergeant, Thea would have been granted access to the base had it not been overrun. And they also did tours overseas in Afghanistan and Iraq, which is where I wanted Thea to be when she got the call about Rick. So it all worked out.

And that's it.

Anyway a big thanks to all who have reviewed this story so far! Keep leaving them because they are forever my inspiration and encouragement.

My eternal love and gratitude goes out to;

**Reedy-Girl, NESSAANCALIME6913, cin89, Cooky Crumbla, Laura201112, lovinurbuks **and **filthyfairytale.**

The next chapter will be up tomorrow, but if not, it will be posted on **May 16th. **So look out for it!

Yours,

SophStratt.


	4. Cherry

**"****Every time you do a good deed you shine a light a little father into the dark.  
And the thing is, when you're gone that light is going to keep shining on,  
pushing the shadows back."  
\- Charles de Lint **

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE – Cherry**

_I was walking through the hospital, through to the ICU, intending on foraging for more medical supplies. Except this time, the door to the pharmacy was locked. I tried to make it budge, but it wouldn't. I tried kicking it down, but it barely shook from the onslaught. _

_"__This wasn't locked the last time." I muttered to myself, as I tried to force it open by throwing my shoulder against it. It still didn't move. _

_Suddenly, something behind me crashed to the floor with a loud metallic bang, and I spun round and reached for my guns. I aimed the two pistols at the source of the noise, recognizing the outline of a person shuffling towards me. It was clearly a patient, as it was only wearing a gown, but it was too dark to tell if it was a walker or not. _

_As though my thoughts could be heard by some divine power, the lights started to flicker, giving me brief moments of light. It was definitely a walker. I could hear the tell-tale moans and groans now. Except, it was much worse than just an ordinary walker. So much worse. I gasped, and my heart broke into a million pieces. _

_"__No. No, no, no, no. Why him? Why him?" I sobbed, as I kept my guns trained on him as he continued to move towards me. I backed up slowly, not wanting to turn my back on him for even a second. "Why did _you_ turn?"_

_His skin was pale, like all the color had been washed out. One of his arms was missing, probably devoured by whatever walker had bitten him and caused him to turn. The hospital gown he was wearing was torn and bloody. _

_The thing that I was disgusted by the most were his eyes. Those pretty blue eyes that used to twinkle when he was amused, or darken when he was angry. The ones I had spent most of my life daydreaming about…his eyes were glazed over, almost milky, and vacant. No sign of real life. Just a sick hunger. A sick hunger for the food he was stumbling towards. Me. _

_He wasn't the man I loved. He was not Rick Grimes anymore. He was a half-starved monster who wanted to eat me. It wasn't Rick. It wasn't him._

_"__Please. Just leave me alone," I cried, which only seem to invigorate him, as he started to move faster. My guns were still raised but I seemed unable to pull either trigger. "Please. Let it all be a dream. This is just a horrible nightmare. This isn't _real_."_

_I kept repeating those words, until I came to a stop and felt it. The wall at my back. I briefly took my eyes off Rick, flickering to either side of me. _

_I had backed myself into a corner._

_I turned back to Rick, panicking at how close he was to me now, and I willed myself to grow a backbone. I had to do it. It wasn't Rick. I had to do it. He was dead. I'm alive. It wasn't Rick. I had to do it._

_"__I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Rick. I love you."_

_Walker Rick seemed to realise what was about to happen, but tried to rush forward to get his meal before it could. _

_I squeezed both triggers, and closed my eyes, sobbing as I heard his body hit the ground._

I woke up with a loud gasp. Feeling someone's arms around me, I started to panic and struggle, until I heard his voice murmuring in my ear.

"It's okay. It's okay. T, you're okay. I'm here. I'm here." Rick whispered, and I looked around to see that Morgan and Duane were awake and watching me with worried eyes. I tried to calm my breathing, clutching to Rick as I attempted to shake off the nightmare.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake anybody."

"Same one?" Morgan questioned, and I was grateful he didn't say anything more than that. I hadn't told him exactly what happens in my dreams, but he knew enough. I just didn't want Rick to know. He'd probably feel guilty or worried and neither of us needed that right now.

"No. Afghanistan flashback. Bad one." I lied, sitting up and untangling myself from Rick.

"Wanna talk about it?" Rick questioned, holding onto my wrist so I couldn't escape. I could easily break out of his weak grip, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings or, much worse, hurt him.

"It's stupid. I've seen so much bad shit in the past two months, but I still dream about warzones, terrorists and IEDs," I replied, only telling a half-lie. The battles I fought in Iraq and Afghanistan still plague me some days. It's hard to forget the sight of shot-up buildings and children, or the smell of burning flesh after an IED blew up a jeep or a bomb disposal unit. I climbed to my feet, shaking away the memories, and forced a smile onto my face. "Hey, little D, wanna help me make breakfast?"

"Oatmeal?" Duane asked, a little bit of hope in his voice and in his face, probably hope for a better breakfast. I grimaced with him. Oatmeal was getting old already, and we'd only been eating it for three weeks.

"Oatmeal."

* * *

Once a measly, tasteless oatmeal breakfast had been silently eaten, we all got dressed, Rick borrowing some clothes left by Fred Drake that didn't fit him right, to begin Rick's apocalypse training and to get Rick some of his own stuff. It was Morgan's idea. Rick needed to know how to kill walkers, because if he didn't, _he _was going to be breakfast. Plus, he needed something of home. It was the only way he would stay sane.

I kept my army tank top on from the day before, since I only had two shirts with me (the rest I had placed in a duffel bag and placed in the secret compartment of my car, where my weapons were kept) and the other was the only clean shirt I had left. I pulled on a pair of dark jeans, and my boots, before I strapped my leg holsters on and checked the ammo in my two pistols. Next, I checked my backpack was still stocked with everything necessary for an excursion outside, checking off each item in my head. My magic knife, check. Bowie knife, check. Med kit, check. Canteen filled with water, check. Lighter, check. Torch, check. Long range radio, check.

"You ready, T?" Morgan questioned.

I nodded, turning around to face him, when I burst out laughing at the scene in front of me.

"What?" Rick asked, and I giggled a little harder. The blue helmet and visor Rick was wearing made his face look incredibly small, and he looked pretty ridiculous.

"Nothing, just nothing. Let's go, boot. You need to pop your walker-slaying cherry before the morning is out." Rick shook his head at me and rolled his eyes, before following me through the house.

I checked outside and saw only a couple of walkers sitting around, waiting for a meal to reveal itself. I led them out on to the porch, a pistol in hand, my eyes scanning everywhere.

"Are we sure they're dead? I have to ask at least one more time." Rick repeated his words from each time we talked about our plans for the day. He didn't want to believe us, because he was still clinging to the hope that this was all some intense coma dream or something.

"They dead, except for something in the brain." Morgan replied.

"That's why you aim for the head. Head, they're dead. Anywhere else, you're dead. That's the way the world works now, honey. We all got to get used to it." I said, ignoring the bitterness in my own voice. If Rick and Morgan heard it as well, they made no mention of it.

We followed Rick down the front garden path, each armed with a weapon. Rick was wielding Duane's old baseball bat, Morgan held a crowbar in one hand, and I had my guns. We were letting Rick lead, against my better judgment, because he needed to get a hold on the way things worked now. I told myself he'd be fine, but he was still pretty weak.

So when a walker, which had been leaning against the white picket fence of the Drake's home, rose to its feet and moved towards him, I felt my heart hammer in my chest, and my grip on my glock tightened slightly.

Rick hurried towards it, smashing it in the head with his bat, repeatedly, harshly, until they both collapsed to the ground. When I saw Rick wrapping his arm around his chest, I moved towards him, worried he'd pulled his stitches or something.

"You all right?" Morgan questioned, voicing our concerns.

"I need a moment." Rick said, so while he gathered himself, I checked the street, making sure that we hadn't attracted any unwanted attention.

Luckily enough, it seemed we were going to have a quiet day. Hopefully. Probably not.

Rick took down two more walkers, before we finally headed into his house. The door was locked, exactly how I left it, but I produced the key I had hidden away in one of Lori's dying flower beds. I wasn't exactly going to leave it open to looters, like myself. Had to loot to eat.

We let Rick in first, following in behind him. I watched as he dropped that ridiculous helmet he'd been wearing by the front door, and continued to breeze further into the house.

"You sent Lori and Carl away with Shane, right? So they are alive?" Rick questioned, looking around his abandoned home, all signs of his family gone.

"Last time I saw them, yes. No scratches, no bites, no infection. I can't guarantee that they're still alive now. It's been two months. A lot of things could have gone wrong in that time." I stated, not wanting to get his hopes up. I trusted Shane to look after them, but, in this world, anything could have happened. They could have been surrounded by walkers, or one of them could have gotten bit, or some asshole opportunists could have killed them for their supplies. I didn't want to think like that, but someone had to.

"They're alive. I can feel it." Rick insisted, and I smiled weakly at him.

"Forever the damn optimist. Look, this is all I know. I sent Lori and Carl off in my car, following Shane in his Jeep. We lost contact with the Atlanta CP just before we were overrun here, so who knows what Atlanta is like? I mean, I want to believe that they're safe too, and with Shane with them, it's highly likely they are..." I trailed off as I realized that Lori had taken all the photos from the walls. She'd packed photos for the apocalypse. I chuckled at the thought of Lori smacking a walker round the head with one of her thick photo albums. I remember helping her with those photo albums, not by choice mind you, but we spent hours pasting all their family photos into three plain black books, scrawling the date and description of each photo underneath. "She took the damn photos. She must have done it while I was helping Carl pack up."

Morgan started to laugh with me, and I knew he was thinking about his wife.

"Photo albums," Morgan said, sitting down on one of the chairs in the living room. "My wife. Same thing. There I am packing survival gear, she's grabbing photo alb…"

Duane stepped further into the room, almost sensing that his father's mind was taking a darker turn.

"T said they were headed to Atlanta. They _could _be there."

"Yeah, it's possible." Morgan backed his son up, and I turned my eyes to Rick, who looked back at me.

"Why Atlanta?"

"Refugee center. A huge one, they said, before the broadcasts stopped-" I cut Morgan off, because I knew that it would reassure him more if all this came from me, and I wanted to believe it all too.

"Military protection, food, shelter. Before we lost contact, I spoke to an army buddy of mine. He said that he'd look out for them when they arrived. If they managed to get there, to find him, they'll be safe. Clayton's a good guy, good soldier and a good friend. They'll be safe." I repeated the last part, trying my best to convince one of us it could be true.

Shane would die before he let Lori and Carl die. I'm eighty per cent sure there was something going on between him and Lori before I sent them away, so at least I know he'd keep them safe. Clayton…he'd take a bullet for anyone. I just hope they had found him. Between him and Shane, nothing would have happened to Lori and Carl.

"They said it'd be safest there." Morgan added, nodding his head as like a second assurance.

"Plus they got that disease place." Duane said, smiling a small smile as he hoped his contribution would help.

"The centre for disease control said they were working out how to solve this thing." Morgan explained, and I watched as hope filled Rick's face.

He looked like a man reborn. There was hope and determination in his eyes that I hoped wouldn't be unfounded.

If we didn't find Lori, Carl and Shane…or worse, if we did and they weren't alive…it would kill Rick. Even if Rick and Lori were 'divorced' he still loved her and would be equally upset by her death as he would be by Carl's.

He moved into the kitchen, opened a cupboard and I heard the jingle of a set of keys. He held them aloft when he walked back in the living room, and I smiled at him.

"Where to, Office Friendly?" I questioned, already knowing that he had some sort of plan running around that brain of his. He knew his next step, and, by extension, mine too.

"The station."

* * *

We got to the station easily enough. There were only a couple of walkers that noticed us as we drove by but those ones were too weak, too hungry to follow the car.

Yet I didn't relax until Rick unlocked the doors to the station, bolting the door shut behind us and we had checked all the rooms for any walkers. I didn't particularly feel happy about the bolted door as it was a potential death trap, but it kept any walkers outside from coming in and surprising us.

It was empty. The station was completely deserted, just like the rest of town.

"All clear." I called to Rick, making sure that the offices were empty, with a shine of my torch around every nook and cranny of each room.

It was kind of sad. There were all these little mementos people had left behind on the desks, people I had once known. Pictures of families, of friends, little knickknacks and unfinished paperwork. One office even had a tray of decaying donuts and a pot of stone cold coffee. All of it abandoned.

I remembered my last visit to King County, on my last leave, choosing to surprise my two best friends at work. I walked in to the station, and got one of the dispatch girls to smuggle me into Rick and Shane's joint office. When they got back from cruising around town, and saw me sitting in Rick's chair, they had crushed me into a double bear hug and then we had gone out for drinks.

Things were better in the old days, when the only thing I had to worry about when walking around this police station was the odd perverted criminal grabbing my ass.

"I got a surprise for you." Rick's voice said, much closer than I had anticipated, scaring me out of my memories. I had to fight my instinct to elbow him in the throat, instead pressing my hand awkwardly against my racing heart, fingers still curled around my Glock, thumping harder at the shot of fear that went through me.

"You jerk, you scared me!" I squeaked, slapping him hard in the arm when he started to laugh at me.

"Sorry." Rick chuckled, and I was glad to see his spirits so high.

"No, you're not. What's this about a surprise?" I asked, and he just grinned, taking my torch so he could take my hand. The other still gripped my Glock, finger not on the trigger luckily for Rick.

He pulled me out of the offices, past the front desk and to the locker rooms, where Morgan and Duane were waiting. He smiled at all three of us, and we got a little nervous. Rick had just woken up from a coma to find he was in the middle of an apocalypse. Chances are he could have lost his mind.

Rick just walked past us to one of the shower stalls in the men's locker room, twisting the shower tap and showing us a steady stream of clear water.

"Gas lines have been down for maybe a month." Morgan stated, not wanting to get our hopes up for a hot shower.

"The station's got its own propane system," Rick announced, and I fought a grin when he put his hand in the water, and looked back at us with a grin. "Pilot's still on."

"You're telling me that I can shower like a normal human being?" I questioned, feeling the excitement bubble up within me. Hot water was the thing I missed most, being able to wash myself properly and being able to shave my legs and underarms in something better than a bucket filled with ice cold rainwater.

"That is what I'm telling you," Rick said, taking my hand and pulling me away. "I'll show you where the ladies of the force kept all the products."

He took me into the ladies locker room, and broke open one of the lockers. We hit the jackpot, finding a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, a razor, a clean, I'll repeat it, clean towel and some body wash. Rick handed it all to me, and pointed in the direction of the shower stalls.

"Thank you, Rick." I said, smiling at him.

"What for?"

"Being alive, bringing us here, giving us something to hope for, being you. God knows how many times I prayed for you to be with me during this. Guess he's still listening." I leant up and pressed my lips to the scruff on his cheek, pulling away after a couple of heartbeats and heading towards the showers.

As soon as I was out of sight, I set palm to forehead, questioning my own sanity.

_Why, oh why, did I just kiss him?_

* * *

**A/N:**

Hello Readers,

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

Let me know what you thought of it with a review, and the next chapter will be up on **JUNE 6TH.**

Love you guys,

SophStratt.


	5. Early Outs

**"****Crying does not indicate that you are weak.  
Since birth, it has been a sign that you are alive."**  
\- **Charlotte Brontë**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR – Early Outs**

If anyone ever asked me if I had cried the moment that hot water first hit my skin, I would lie and tell them no, but I did. I cried and laughed as the water washed away the grime and dirt, along with the soap and shampoo.

After shaving, toweling off and changing into the clothes I had in the bottom of my backpack, I felt more like me again. I felt like a normal, everyday human being who was strapping her gun holsters back to her legs, and preparing herself to reenter the terrors of the outside world.

Once I was war ready, I left the women's locker room, pulling on my green beanie, and went to go rejoin the guys, managing to catch them as they were heading out the men's locker room. I caught sight of Rick, wearing his spare police uniform, all clean shaven, and I couldn't help but let out a whistle.

"Would you look at that? I think I remember this guy…" I teased him, as I walked up to him. Rick smiled, and ducked his head down as though I was embarrassing him. I placed a clean (I'm probably too excited at how clean I feel) hand against his cheek, grinning at the smoothness there now. "You clean up real nice, Sheriff. It's nice to see you looking like you again."

"I didn't look like me before?" Rick questioned, his blue eyes looking at me intently.

"Not really. This is you. Officer Friendly, protector of the people," I smiled, before realizing that I was still cupping his cheek. I took my hand away, and stepped back awkwardly, clearing my throat. I really had to get my shit together. It was almost like I had reverted back to the love-struck teenager I had been many years ago. "So, what next?"

"Gun closet. We should check and see if it hasn't been cleared out." Rick said, probably choosing to ignore my abrupt subject change.

"We should get moving." Morgan suggested, and I nodded, leading the way to the gun closet.

I remembered where it was from walking past it a couple of times before the outbreak, so it wasn't that difficult to find. Once inside the room, Rick came forward to unlock the cage door, the chain, that had been holding it closed, rattled as it hit the wall.

Rick walked in first, and I knew he was a little disappointed by how little was left. I mean, there was enough for just two people to arm themselves with, and enough ammunition to last a few months if rationed carefully, but I guess, he thought there would be more.

"A lot of its gone missing." Rick said, grabbing a shot gun from the shelf, and checking it for ammo.

"Shane took a few things, I think. Whatever else is missing was probably used when the walkers first hit King County." I replied, as I stepped into the cage.

"Daddy, can I learn how to shoot? T wouldn't teach me."

"No, I said I'd teach you if you asked your daddy. Not my fault if you didn't ask." I stated, grabbing a rifle and looking down the scope to see if it was aligned properly. Seeing that it was, I placed it down on a table, and moved towards the shelf that still had some pistols.

I scanned them, taking each one and placing it into a bag, looking for the lightest one to give to Duane, since he was probably going to be taught now anyway.

"I'm old enough." Duane pressed, acting as though I hadn't even spoken. The punk.

"Hell, yes, you're gonna learn. But we've got to do it carefully, teach you to respect the weapon."

"That's right. It's not a toy. You pull the trigger, you have to mean it. Always remember that, Duane." Rick added, giving the kid a serious look, and a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, sir."

"Come here, kiddo. I'll teach you how to load a pistol." I said, leading him to the other side of the room when I saw Rick take the rifle I had just put down and give it to Morgan.

I knew what it was for. Jenny. Duane didn't need to know that. It was hard enough for him that his mom was dead and a walker, let alone seeing a near stranger hand his daddy the rifle meant to put a final end to her.

I held aloft a Glock 26, otherwise known as the Baby Glock, and showed it to him. The Glock 26 was perfect for Duane. It was mostly used by security guards and unarmed cops as a conceal-carry weapon, but it would work just as well for the kid. Plus it was light and highly accurate, and wouldn't kick back as badly when he fired it.

"Alright, kid, so this button here on the hand grip will eject the magazine," I said, showing him exactly where it was, and how to push it. I took the empty magazine out and put the Glock to one side. I picked up a handful of 9mm rounds, and gave him most of them. "Now, to fill the magazine, all you got to do is insert each bullet in, with the rounded side forward, until it's full. You do the rest. When you're done, just slide the magazine back into the hand grip until you hear a click. Then you'll have loaded your very first gun. I'd give you a certificate, but I'm not licensed to hand those out."

Duane smiled at me, with a hint of pride in his features as he looked at the gun he'd managed to load on his own. I then instructed him to start loading the ammunition into a bag, and watched as he got to work.

I looked back and saw Rick and Morgan exchanging meaningful glances, Morgan clutching that rifle tight in his hand, and felt a little warmth make its way back into my heart. The world needed men like Rick and Morgan.

Good men wanting to protect people, willing to do anything to accomplish that, as long as it was the right thing to do.

A shot of bitterness ripped through me with the thought that this was the type of world that destroyed men like Rick and Morgan, turned and twisted them into something they aren't.

This was the kinda world that bred monsters, not heroes.

* * *

"Conserve your ammo," Rick said, as we filed out of a side entrance to the station. We had all the guns and ammo we could carry, so there was no point in staying there any longer. "It goes faster than you think, especially at target practice."

We headed to the cars, my borrowed Explorer and Rick's police cruiser, each of us carrying a couple of heavy bags, filled with weapons and supplies.

"Duane. Take this to the car." Morgan instructed, handing his son one of the duffel bags full of weapons and supplies. Duane hurried over to the Explorer to start packing the bags away, while Rick, Morgan and I came to a stop by the cruiser's trunk, dropping our bags onto the ground.

"Are you sure you won't come along?" Rick questioned, and I was glad he'd asked again, giving Morgan an out of putting down Jenny. A man shouldn't have to put a bullet in his wife's head, like she was a tired old race horse nearing the end of her life. Of course, Jenny was already past the end of her life, but the analogy is still pretty accurate.

"A few more days. By then, Duane will know how to shoot and I won't be so rusty."

Instead of giving a reply, Rick turned and unlocked the cruiser, reached in and pulled out a walkie-talkie, holding it towards Morgan for him to take.

"You've got one battery," Rick informed him, and I smiled at the gesture. If all went okay, we'd be able to communicate when we were all in Atlanta. "I'll turn mine on a few minutes every day at dawn. You get up there, that's how you find us."

"Us?" I questioned, keeping my face neutral as I teased him.

"Uh, yeah? I thought…You're with me, right?" Rick questioned, his blue eyes burning into mine, his gaze nervous and unsure, while he waited for my answer.

"I'm always with you. Always have been, always will be, whatever happens."

Rick smiled and nodded, looking like my words had breathed more determination and hope into his body. He seemed reassured, and I beamed back at him.

"Listen, one thing, they may not seem like much one at a time, but in a group, all riled up and hungry, man, you watch your ass." Morgan warned Rick, knowing that I already knew too well what a group of them could do.

Duane had returned to us, standing by his daddy's side, watching all three of us talk with interest.

"You too." Rick said, as I turned to the kid I had grown to love over the past couple of months. I crouched down so we were on the same level, eye to eye, and I smiled weakly at him, feeling a little choked up. I'd really bonded with Morgan and Duane, they'd become another surrogate family to me, and leaving them behind was hard, even if I did have hope I'd see them again someday.

"You take good care of your daddy, Little D, okay? He's a good man, and he'll keep you safe, but he needs looking after too. Now, when you're in a hot zone, where's your weapon?" I questioned, wanting to know that I was leaving Duane with all the knowledge I could impart to him about how to survive in this new world.

"In my hands." Duane answered, without any hesitation.

"And what do we do with it?"

"Keep it aimed forward at my enemy."

"Good. Keep 'em forward. And when there are too many walkers?" I pressed, needing to hear he remembered everything. I couldn't leave them behind if I didn't. I was the one with the military experience. I was the one who had survived numerous firefights, IED's, suicide bombers and a small herd of walkers.

"I make my bird, and get outta there and find somewhere to hide."

I nodded, and straightened up out of the half-crouch I was standing in.

"Looks like my work's done here. Once your daddy teaches you to shoot, you'll have all the necessary skills to survive. Don't need me anymore." I cracked a smile, which faltered a little when Duane launched himself at me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and hugged me tight.

"Do you have to go? We still need you." Duane's voice mumbled into my shirt, and I chuckled.

"Someone needs to make sure that Officer Friendly over here doesn't get himself put into a coma again," I chuckled, rubbing circles into his back, before I gently pulled him away. "I can't promise you that we'll see each other again, but I hope we do."

"Me too."

I smiled at him before looking at Morgan, and we both shared a look of understanding. I knew Morgan wasn't ready to leave here yet. He wouldn't be able to put her down, not for a while, at least.

"You keep yourself safe. Like my boy says, we still need you, so when we get up to Atlanta…I expect you to still be alive, you understand?" Morgan instructed me, and I laughed at him.

"You got it. I'll scavenge us some beer, and have a warm one waiting on you." I grinned at him.

"I'll be looking forward to it," Morgan smiled, before turning to Rick. "You're good people, Rick Grimes. I hope you both find the people you're looking for."

Just as Morgan picked up his bag, put his baseball cap back on his head, and was about to walk away to the Explorer when he froze and I knew it was not something good. All three of us, Duane, Rick and I, followed Morgan's line of sight, to see a walker in a cop uniform on the other side of the fence.

"Leon Basset?" Rick breathed, and I squinted, and by God, it was him. Leon Basset, who was arguably the worst cop in the world, even including fictional cops like Police Chief Wiggum from the Simpsons. "I didn't think much of him. Careless and dumb, but…I can't leave him like this."

"You know they'll hear the shot." Morgan warned, but we both knew that Rick was too good of a man to leave Leon to suffer like this, like Morgan's own wife was. Morgan had already seen the good in Rick Grimes in just a short day, while I had been seeing it my whole life.

"Let's not be here when they show up." Rick replied, striding towards Leon's walking corpse.

"Let's go, son. Come on." Morgan urged Duane, as we backed up to our respective vehicles.

I grabbed Rick's bags, as well as my own, and placed them all on the backseat of the cruiser, before climbing into the passenger seat, waiting for the gunshot. I counted to three in my head, my eyes staring out the window, watching as Rick pressed the barrel of his signature Colt Python pistol against Leon's forehead.

The shot rang out, and I turned away once I saw Leon's body hit the floor. He wasn't coming back. I didn't relax, however, until Rick was back in the car.

"You ready for this?" I asked him, turning my head to look at him as he fired up the engine. His eyes flickered to me as he turned his head to reverse out, and, while there was a small sign of fear of the unknown here, there was a lot of determination.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

**A/N:**

Hey guys!

I know this chapter is short, but it's more a filler than anything else. The next one will be longer.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and followed and favourite. Normally I write all your names down here to let you know that I've seen your reviews, but I am literally so tired right now that even looking at this screen is making my head hurt. I'll do a mass review recognition paragraph next chapter instead.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. The next chapter will be out on **June 27th.**

See you then guys,

SophStratt.


	6. Outside The Wire

**"****By the pricking of my thumbs,**

**Something wicked this way comes."**

**-William Shakespeare, 'Macbeth'**

* * *

**Chapter Five – Outside the Wire**

* * *

We were halfway down the 85 when Rick thought to try the radio. If there was any way to see if Atlanta was safe or not, it would be to see if they still had people responding to the emergency radio channel.

"Broadcasting on Emergency Channel. We'll be approaching Atlanta on Highway 85. Anybody reads, please respond," Rick spoke into the radio, his eyes on the road, and mine on him. I was praying to God that somebody answered and told us that Atlanta was safe, because I didn't have a good feeling about going in there blind. "Hello. Hello. Can anybody hear my voice? Anybody out there? Anybody hears me, please respond. Hello, can you hear my voice? Hello. Hello. Can anybody hear my voice? Can you hear my voice?"

"Rick…nobody is answering." I said, feeling a little disappointed. I hadn't much hope, but enough for it to be ripped apart by the silence on the other end of the radio.

"If anybody reads, please respond. Broadcasting on Emergency Channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on Highway 85. If anybody reads, please respond." Rick continued, and I sighed, before holding my hand out for the radio.

Rick glanced at me before handing it over.

"This is Sergeant Thea Winters of the US Army Special Forces. If anybody reads, I am approaching Atlanta with one guest on Highway 85, and need to know if the area is secure. Please respond. I repeat, this is Sergeant Thea Winters of the US Army Special Forces. I belong to the 75th Ranger Regiment and I am approaching Atlanta on Highway 85, please respond. I am outside the wire, and need confirmation that the Atlanta base is secure. Please respond."

No response came. I sighed and placed the radio back onto its hook.

"I guess we're going in blind. God help us." I muttered, before focusing on the road.

* * *

_"__Hello. Hello. Can anybody hear my voice?"_ A voice crackled over the radio that rested on an old tree stump in the middle of a make-shift camp, and a young, blonde woman rushed over to answer.

"Hey. Hello?" She spoke in to the radio. An older man, with a silver beard, wearing a hat on his head moved towards the radio, wondering who could be on the other end.

"_Can you hear my voice?"_ The voice, a male voice the blonde decided, asked.

"Yes, I can hear you. You're coming through. Over." She said, looking up at the older gentlemen as she tried desperately to be heard by the mysterious man on the other side of the radio wavelength.

"_If anybody reads, please respond. Broadcasting on Emergency Channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on Highway 85. If anybody reads, please respond."_

"We're just outside the city," The radio crackled and the man seemed to disappear for a moment, and the young woman sighed in frustration. More people had gathered now, wanting to know if they were able to speak to the individual trying to communicate with anyone who heard him. "Damn it. Hello? Hello? He couldn't hear me. I couldn't warn him."

"Try to raise him again," The older man instructed before he spied the man who knew how the radio worked best. "Come on, son, you know best how to work this thing."

The dark-haired man walked over, imbedding his axe into the stump, missing the radio, and took the speaker off the blonde.

"Hello, hello. Is the person who called still on the air?"

_"__This is Sergeant Thea Winters of the US Army Special Forces. If anybody reads, please respon-"_ The radio crackled and silenced, but the man recognized the name and tried to get her to speak again.

"Thea? T! It's Shane! Please respond!" He urged her, but only crackling came from the other end of the radio. "Thea, its Shane, please respond. Over. Thea? She's gone."

"We have to go after her. She doesn't know what she's getting into." A tall, thin dark haired woman stated, hugging her son to her side with one arm, the other resting on her hip.

"We can't, Lori. We are surviving here. We are day-to-day." Shane replied, getting back up onto his feet, and staring her down. Thea was his best friend, but he couldn't risk the safety of more of his group. He couldn't risk Lori or Carl by going off after her.

"And who the hell would you propose we send?" The old man questioned.

"I'll go. Give me a vehicle." Lori snapped. She was being ganged up on and she didn't like it. They knew that putting up a sign warning people away from the city was something they should have done a long time ago, and now Thea was heading in that direction. If her friend died, it would be on her hands and everybody else's.

"Nobody goes anywhere alone. You know that." Shane retorted.

"She's our friend, Shane. She saved Carl and me. We would have died if it weren't for her. Somebody needs to go save her this time." Lori said, before she walked away, going to seethe in her tent.

She thought Shane would be all for it. Thea was his best friend since they were kids. It had always been the three of them; Shane, Thea…and Rick. Nobody had been able to come between them, and they would have done anything for each other.

Thea saved them. Walkers had surrounded Lori and Carl as they tried to make their way back to their house, and Thea saved them. Then she gave them her car, and a box of supplies, and a handgun, and sent them after Shane to Atlanta. Thea hadn't known that Atlanta wasn't safe, but she sent them somewhere she thought would be safe for them, and that meant more to Lori than anything.

Now Thea was driving into Satan's new holiday home with no idea what it really held and there was nothing Lori was allowed to do about it.

* * *

Eventually we had to stop for gas. The cruiser's tank was officially on empty, and we were still a few miles out of Atlanta. I grabbed our bags from the back seat, while Rick grabbed a photograph from the sun visor and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

Rick took his duffel bag and his bag of guns, and I took my backpack and the shotgun I had taken for myself, and we both climbed out of the car. Rick picked up the cruiser's gas can from the trunk, and I rolled my eyes at his optimism. We were very unlikely to find gas around here.

"We'd better step off if we're gonna make it to Atlanta before late afternoon." I said, and Rick nodded.

"I think I saw a house in the distance. We can see if they have any gas." Rick replied, and I sighed, knowing that the likelihood of the people in that house still being alive was low, and even if they were, the probability of them sharing their gas supply with us was even lower.

"Okay, let's go."

We walked in silence for about twenty minutes, until we reached the house. Rick dropped his bags to the ground, as he called out to whoever lived there, while I just scanned the property, my eyes assessing everything. It looked pretty abandoned, if I were being honest, but that was just at first glance. Still, I felt uneasy standing out here in the open like this. I felt bare and naked without all my army greens and bullet proofs on.

"Hello? Police officer and army sergeant out here," Rick started forward, and I followed him, mostly because I didn't want him to get himself shot again. My hands tensed around the shotgun I was holding, and I kept one finger on the trigger, just in case. "Can I borrow some gas?"

Aesthetically, the house looked like a normal house. The small garden in front was beautiful, the flowers still blooming, if not slightly overgrown. The paint was peeling off the roof, but over than that, it looked clean and kept. As if the apocalypse hadn't actually touched it yet.

Rick put down the gas can as we both headed to the front door, and then he took off his hat. He had no clue about how things went down these days.

"Hello?" He called again, as he pulled himself up the porch steps.

"Rick. No one's home, and if they are, they don't wanna help, so we should go." I stated, as I looked around nervously. It was too quiet here, and I didn't like it. Something wasn't right.

"We need gas, T, or we're walking to Atlanta," Rick answered, knocking on the door anyway. "Hello? Anybody home?"

I moved past Rick, as he started looking in through windows, and headed to the furthest window on the porch to try and get a glimpse into their living room to see if they were just hiding out.

They weren't.

"Oh God!" I gasped. I had long been desensitized to these sorts of images, but that was mostly in Afghanistan. Even in the apocalypse I didn't expect someone to shoot is wife in the head, leave a note on the wall and then blow his own brains out.

Rick moved towards me, as my eyes still stared at the three bloody words that had stained the wall. _God forgive us. _Maybe they didn't think that the world would be put to rights again, maybe they thought there was absolutely no hope, maybe they just wanted to die together as painlessly as possible instead of being ripped into by the monsters that had infested our world. It was still upsetting to realize that some people had taken their lives instead of fighting for them.

Flies buzzed around their bodies, brain matter splattered the wall and the floor, and dark blood stained the white carpet. I had been right. Nobody was home. Not anymore.

As Rick took a look through the window, I walked away, shoulders hunched, shotgun practically hanging from my hand, and tears in my eyes. I had no idea who they were, but seeing that someone had felt so defeated that they had taken their lives…that reminded me of my parents.

_"__Shane, go get Rick from the hospital! I'll get these two packed and ready, and then we'll go to the Atlanta base. It'll be safe there. I know the guy in charge there. He said that Atlanta was pretty much secure, that they were keeping the dead out of the survivor's camp," I said, as Shane and I debated what our next course of action should be. Whatever we did, we knew we had to get out of King County. The army was dealing with it, but it was not safe here. "We take Rick, Lori and Carl up there. They'll be safe, and Rick will get the medical attention he needs. The hospital here is almost done for. The army is struggling to keep the dead out of that place. You need to get Rick. There'll be a guy at the doors when you get there, tell him I sent you to check something out. He'll let you in."_

_"__Be ready to leave when I get back with him."_

_I nodded, and Shane rushed out of Rick and Lori's house. Lori was trying to calm Carl down, after their close encounter with a few walkers, upstairs and I thought I'd give them a few minutes more before I started hurrying them to pack up. _

_My phone buzzed in my pocket, letting me know that I had a missed call. For a brief second, I let myself wonder how I could have missed the call, and how the person called in the first place since the phone lines had gone down about an hour ago, but then I shook it off and decided to listen to the message._

**_You have one new message. Message one left at 11:48 am. _**

_"__Sweetie, it's your mother. Your father and I just wanted to call to let you know that those things are outside the house. We barricaded the doors as best we could, but we don't want to risk getting ripped apart like those people on the news. We hope you keep fighting. You're young, and strong, and brave…you're built for a world like this. You can survive…whatever this is, but your father and I can't. Your dad's heart problems would probably kill him before those monsters could, and I'm too weak to run for my life. So this is our goodbye, sweetheart. We want you to know that we love you, and we're proud of you, and that this is our choice. Goodbye, my darling girl. Stay strong for us."_

**_This is the end of your messages. Press 1 to repeat the message. Press 2 to delete. Press 3 to save the message-_**

_I choked back the sobs, and wiped away the tears, caused by my mom's message. She and Dad were gone. Just like my brother. I was the last Winters left. For a brief moment, I was angry. Why didn't they even try to fight? Why couldn't they have tried? Once the anger dissipated, I realized how stupid that was. My mom was right. My dad's heart was too weak to survive the stress that would come with living in this new world, and my mom's own health issues meant she couldn't handle all the running that would ensue. They had made a hard choice, but it was their choice and there was nothing I could do about it now. _

_They were already gone._

I sat down on a stone bench just in front of the house, and dropped my head into my hands. Seconds later, Rick joined me, his body showing the same signs of defeat that I'm sure mine was. The slumped shoulders, the tired, almost empty gaze, and that was just a small part of it.

"This is not what you were expecting to wake up to, was it?" I asked, and Rick just shook his head. "All this needless death and nobody knows what even started it. It's all just fucked up."

I glanced at Rick, and saw he was staring at me, or rather staring at something past me. I followed his gaze and saw the station wagon parked just beyond an old, weather tree swing. Rick got up to check it out, but I stayed where I was. If it had gas before the couple inside had killed themselves, then it definitely did not now. Someone would have scavenged that already. I watched Rick open up the door and check inside, but he soon slammed the door shut.

"No keys." He called, and I rose to my feet and walked towards him.

"They probably had them inside." I mused, and then we both heard something that gave us both back a little hope.

A horse's nicker.

We turned our heads, and, just at the side of the house in a small paddock, there stood two light bay American mustangs. Rick and I looked at each other and then at the two horses. We might just make it to Atlanta after all.

"Remember when your dad raised horses? You still remember how to ride them?" Rick questioned, as we both walked towards the skittish beasts. I couldn't blame them. They'd been abandoned by their owners, and they were lucky to still be alive. Walkers could have gotten them by now.

"I grew up with horses, Grimes. I know how to train them, feed them, clean them…you don't forget. It's like riding a bike." I grinned at him, grabbing some of the tack that we would need to saddle the two animals.

We approached the two horses, reins in hand, and the stallions skittered back slightly, clearly wary of the two unfamiliar presences.

"Easy, now. Easy," Rick said, in a smooth voice, the same one he used when talking to a victim of crime, or when I was upset. It was almost comforting to hear it. "We're not gonna hurt you. Nothing like that."

Rick reached out to the closest horse, as I edged nearer to the darker bay stallion, a soft smile playing on my lips as wide dark brown eyes eyed me curiously.

"More like a proposal." I added, raising a hand to run it down the horse's white nose. He nudged my hand when I went to take it away, encouraging me to continue with my affections. He was a beautiful horse.

"Atlanta's just down the road a ways. It's safe there. Food, shelter, people. Other horses too, I bet. How's that sound?" Rick asked the two beasts, before he circled the reins around his horse's neck, as I did the same.

"There we go. Good boy. Now, come with us," I said, leading my horse out of the paddock, with Rick following me. "Come on. It's okay. Come on, boy."

It didn't take all that long to remember how to saddle a horse again, despite having not done it since my teens. As soon as Rick was seated in his saddle, and I had passed him his two bags, and I had pulled my backpack on and had climbed into my own saddle, we set off.

"Just go easy, okay? I haven't done this for years," Rick said, as we pushed the two horses into a walk. I turned towards him, and he glanced at me, a smile on his face. A smile that dropped as he noticed the shit-eating grin that basically spelled trouble for him. "No, don't you even think about it, Thea!"

I ignored him as I moved my horse, Philip as I had decided to call him, closer to Rick's and smacked it on the rear, spurring it to suddenly gallop forward. Rick tried to rein it in, but the creature was not having any of it. It continued to gallop, probably glad for the freedom to run, so I pushed Philip to move at the same speed, catching them up quickly. Rick glared at me as he tried to regain control, and I laughed at his scowl, enjoying myself for the first time in a while.

"Just like old times, huh?" I questioned, when we finally slowed down, not wanting to wear the horses out before we made it to Atlanta.

"You being a pain in my ass? Yeah, exactly like old times." Rick remarked, and I laughed at him.

"You love it, don't try and deny it. Without me, you only had Shane, and I'm certain that watching him fondle Marcie Goldman's breasts, while you sat all alone, wondering about the awesome best friend you never knew, throughout our sophomore year would have been a real blast." I teased him, reining my horse in a bit as we moved further along the highway.

"You're right. That would have been awful. At least with you, there was a funny commentary that ended up pissing him off to the point that he chased you around the school parking lot." Rick chuckled and I grinned, remembering that day. I kept mimicking Marcie as she moaned breathlessly as Shane pinned her to the side of his truck as they made out and he went to town on the two air bags she called breasts. Marcie's dad was the only plastic surgeon in King County, and he managed to make quite a living on all the bored, rich housewives. Marcie was his youngest patient, getting breast implants at the age of 16. Rick and I used to laugh at her, because she ended up looking like a live-action Barbie doll, especially with her big blonde hair and blue eyes. For some reason, Shane found her attractive, even though he had a preference for brunettes.

I was about to open my mouth to reply when my eyes zeroed in on the pile up of abandoned cars on the road heading out of the city. Rick seemed to have noticed the same thing, as the light-heartedness of our previous conversation evaporated and a thick tension seeped into the both of us.

Moving my eyes away from what looked like a terrible crash, I saw empty cars that seemed to just stretch on for miles. For a moment, I wondered what had happened to all these people, wondering why they were all leaving the city instead of heading in.

Dread filled me up, head to toe, and I turned my gaze to Rick.

"I don't like this. Maybe we should turn back." My eyes flickered between my best friend and the city landscape, not liking the silence and the bad omen that was the traffic pile-up out of the city. My gut was telling me that this was a bad idea. My gut was telling me that the city couldn't have been safe if all those people were trying to get _out_ of the Atlanta. My gut had a 97% success rate.

"You sent them to Atlanta, T. My son is in that city somewhere, I know it. You still with me?" Rick questioned, his blue eyes burning into mine, pleading with me to hang onto the hope that his son and wife- ex-wife – were safe and well holed up in the city somewhere.

"I'm with you. Always have been, always will be. Whatever happens." I declared, repeating my words from earlier, my eyes holding his to let him know just how sincere the declaration was.

I flew across the world to sit at his bedside after he'd been shot. I had stayed behind in King County to defend the hospital, even after it was contaminated. I never left King County because I couldn't leave him, dead or alive. I was pretty certain that I was about to walk into a complete clusterfuck, but had no choice but to venture into said clusterfuck because Rick was. I think my actions prove that my words were sincere.

Rick nodded at me, finding something in my eyes or in my words that satisfied him, and he pushed his horse on, leaving me to follow him into the unknown.

* * *

Rick and I finally made it into the city, and it was a ghost town.

The streets were empty, litter blowing listlessly in the soft breeze, cars stationary in the road. Rick and I would exchange nervous glances, as we moved through the Atlanta streets, because it was just so quiet. There weren't any signs of life, or otherwise.

As we moved further into the city, the density of cars, trucks, vans, bikes, and even a helicopter or two, increased. There were burnt out shells of cars, beaten up and practically totaled. The military helicopter that had been left and abandoned had me worried more than anything. What if the army had been overrun here, just like in King County? Did the survivor's camp still exist? Did Lori and Carl even make it here? Everything was just so uncertain, and I wasn't comfortable with that. I liked things to be clear cut and defined, which is another reason that I left King County. Things with Rick were so blurred and undefined, so I cut and ran.

Which is exactly what I wanted to do right now.

We had just passed a burnt out bus when I heard the first tell-tale signs of the undead. Growling. We had woken a couple up within the bus, which startled the horses.

"Whoa! Steady." Rick said, as we calmed the two stallions down.

"There's just a few. Nothing we can't outrun." I murmured to Philip, as we both pushed the horses into a trot to get away from the three walkers we could see, taking a left down another street.

I felt my heart sink again. This street was littered with abandoned military vehicles. A few LAV's, a tank, all abandoned. The tank even had a dead fellow soldier lying face down on top of it. His face was messed up beyond belief, and the back of his head displayed an entry wound from a small caliber weapon. He had been put down after being infected, and now he was dinner for a couple of crows.

I stopped beside him a second, mumbling a prayer for a fallen comrade, while Rick moved on ahead. I was just about to join him when he pushed his mustang into a canter, hurtling off down the street, calling to me to follow.

I made to follow him when he pulled tight on his reins, coming to a sudden stop. That's when I heard the groans coming from behind me. I turned my head and spied the twenty or so walkers stumbling quickly towards me, and then the mass of dead that were on Rick's tail.

There was a small window that I could escape in, as there were less walkers coming towards me, then there were following Rick, and there was a small gap that I could push through. Yet I knew that Rick wouldn't make it through the same opening.

I took a deep breath, before I turned back towards my friend as he cantered towards me. The walkers circled us then, and started to tug on our legs, on the horse, on anything they could reach. I tried kicking them off, keeping myself away from their teeth, but eventually, they managed to pull us down.

Rick hit the ground first, and I followed soon enough, both of us wriggling away as they took down our horses. I felt so much guilt as I heard the Philip and his friend struggling to get free as the dead tore them open. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I pushed myself up onto my feet, kicking a walker in the chest and sending it flailing into a few that were shuffling towards me.

I spun around, looking for a way out, before I spied the tank. While part of me was thinking _not another fucking tank, _the more logical part of me was weeping with pure joy. The tank would keep those assholes out and we'd be safe.

"Rick! The tank!" I instructed, knowing there was no way we would make it through the crowds that were converging towards the fresh meat that had unwittingly stumbled into their trap.

I rushed towards it, seeing Rick crawling underneath, and launched myself on top. I was almost to the hatch when I felt a bony, but strong, hand grip my ankle. Hearing shots from underneath the tank, I knew that, since we were screwed anyway, there would be no harm firing a shot of my own. I ripped my Glock from its holster and turned just in time to shoot the walker, who was about to bite into my leg, through the eye. The dead female dropped like a rock, and I shook her hand off my leg, and resumed my climb.

I dropped into the tank, and looked around, seeing that Rick wasn't inside. I crawled to the floor hatch, seeing that it was already open, and saw Rick with his gun to his head.

"Rick! Up here!" I called to him, and he quickly scrambled up.

As soon as he was in, I closed the hatch, and shuffled back to rest against the wall, my head falling into my hands as the cold realization sunk in.

We were probably not going to make it out of this.

"You okay?" I questioned, seeing Rick push himself back, away from the hatch, as we listened to the thumps of the walkers trying to get in. They wouldn't be able to. I had survived three days in a tank back in King County when the hospital had gotten overrun. They wouldn't make a dent on it.

"Oh God. Oh God." Rick mumbled, obviously in shock as to how quickly things had fallen apart.

"You dropped the bag of guns, I lost my shotgun out there somewhere and I've only got two pistols. How many rounds have you got left?" I asked, my voice as soft as I could possibly make it. He was freaking out and, while my heart was racing at about a hundred miles per hour, I was calmer. Possibly for already having gone through something like this once before. At times, fighting in Afghanistan had been just been one clusterfuck after the other, wrapped in another clusterfuck and tied with a neat little bow.

Rick didn't answer me, only started to search the body next to him for weapons or ammo. He found a Beretta, and managed to yank it out of its holster, only to look up and see the soldier staring at him with a hungry expression.

I moved to grab my knife, but Rick had already placed his Colt underneath the undead soldier's chin and pulled the trigger.

Pain ripped through my ears as the ringing caused by Rick's bullet in a confined metal area blasted into them. I squeezed my eyes closed, and brought both my hands to my ears, breathing in slowly. I knew the routine by now. In war zones, things are being exploded next to you all the time, so repercussion ringing is something you get used to. It still hurts like a bitch, but you learn how to deal with it more effectively.

Rick, however, did not know how to deal with it, so he climbed up the upper hatch to get out into the open. He wasn't going to leave the tank, I knew that, but I still panicked a bit until he sealed us in.

The ringing became slightly more bearable after a couple more seconds, and a few more deep breaths. Rick dropped down next to me, cradling his head, as the walkers pounded their fists against the upper hatch. I shuffled closer to him, leaning into him, trying to find some comfort in what seemed like a truly hopeless time. Rick checked the ammo in the Beretta, finding it to be full, before he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and tugged me closer.

"It's not really an appropriate time to say this," I started, causing Rick to turn his head towards me, our noses brushing at our close proximity. It would probably be a good time to tell him how I feel, how I've always felt about him, but as soon as I opened my mouth only five words come out. "But I told you so."

Rick seems to deflate for a second, like he was expecting something different, before he squeezed me, knowing that I was only making jokes because I was scared.

I was. I was terrified. I was stuck in another tank, surrounded by more walkers than I had ever seen in one place, our bag of guns was lost somewhere outside, and I felt defeated. I felt like we had come all this way for nothing. I felt angry. Rick didn't deserve this. He deserved to wake up in his hospital bed in a fully functioning hospital surrounded by his family and friends. He didn't deserve to wake up in an apocalypse, to lose his son and ex-wife, and to end up dying in a tank in an abandoned city.

The whole thing was hopeless, right from the start. We were just too dumb to see it.

"I'm so sorry that I dragged you into this." Rick muttered, and I just dropped my head onto his shoulder, trying desperately not to cry. Nobody needed that right now.

"Nowhere I'd rather be," I choked out, before adding, "Except maybe the Caribbean."

Rick chuckled pathetically at my attempt to lighten the mood. That's when we heard it. Or rather him.

Our salvation came at the other end of a crackling radio.

"_Hey, you two,"_ Both of us turned slowly turned our heads towards the CB, as a quiet voice spoke softly to us. "_Dumbasses. Yeah, you two in the tank. You cosy in there?"_

* * *

**A/N:**

* * *

Hey guys!

This is the new chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it. We got a small glimpse into Thea's previous life, with a flashback to a missed call from her mother at the beginning of the outbreak, and we're finally getting to one of my favourite parts of Season 1, aka GLENN! I love Glenn so much, like I can't even begin to describe my utter love for Pizza Boy.

Anyway, thank you to all of you who have favourited, followed and reviewed, especially to these reviewers;

**Reedy-Girl, NESSAANCALIME6913, cin89, Cooky Crumbla, Laura201112, lovinurbuks, filthyfairytale, together24x3, CrossbowLover, shika93, klandgraf2007, SandraSmit19, Katarzyna88gb, Proxy-Blue22, jedi-stark, Guest, emberlies, **and **WalkingSaint18.**

This was supposed to be updated on Saturday, but I'm busy so you guys get the chapter a few days early.

The next update will be on **July 18****th** so watch for it, because it's gonna be a good one!

Thanks for reading,

SophStratt.


	7. FUBAR

**"****Every person, all the events of your life,**

**Are there because you have drawn them there.**

**What you choose to do with them is up to you."**

**-Richard Bach**

* * *

**Chapter Six - FUBAR**

* * *

"_Hey, are you still alive in there?"_

I couldn't believe it. There was somebody still here, and listening. I gaped at the radio, almost in disbelief. After the day we had just had, we could have hallucinated the voice, trying to fool ourselves into hoping again. It wasn't that far-fetched. People under extreme stress sometimes see or hear things that aren't there, like stress-induced paranoia and hallucinations. It happens.

Suddenly, Rick jolted forward, hitting his head hard in his desperation to get to the radio. I stayed where I was for the moment, waiting for Rick to prove that we were either saved or that we really had gone crazy in our final moments. For the time being, I was leaning towards the latter.

"Hello? Hello?" Rick spoke into the microphone, and a sigh of relief came through.

"_There you are. You had me wondering. The lady with you still?"_

"Yeah. Where are you? Outside? Can you see me right now?" Rick questioned, as I slowly made my way to his side, wanting to hear the kid more clearly. After all, my ears were still suffering from Rick's trigger happy finger.

_"__Yeah, I can see you. You're surrounded by walkers. That's the bad news."_

"There's good news?" Rick asked, even though I'm certain he knew that this situation would not churn out good news. Even with the kid on the radio, we were Fucked. Capital completely warranted.

"_No."_

I snatched the mike from his hand, and pressed down on the receiver.

"Look, whoever you are, I don't really need to tell you that we're a little concerned in here." I just stopped myself from hissing my words down the mike, letting my frustration and my desperation get the better of me.

"_Oh, man. You should see it from over here. You'd be having a major freak-out."_

"Yeah, well I'm having a real ball in here. I need you to tell me where there's an opening outside, _if _there's an opening outside. Anything you see, I wanna know about it, you got that?" I instructed, knowing that he could help us, especially since wherever he was had a good enough view of the street.

_"__I'd say you could make a run for it. You've got eyes on the outside here. There's one geek still up on the tank, but the others have climbed down and joined the feeding frenzy where the horses went down. You with me so far?"_ The Good Samaritan questioned, and Rick took the mike back from me, taking back control of the conversation. I just shrugged and took the opportunity to check my ammo and my knife. I had only used one bullet, so I could be fine for a while, and the knife was still sharp so any that got too close would find it would easily slice into their heads.

"We're with you so far." Rick replied, though he glanced at me, as though he was unsure of how successful this plan would be. It was risky, sure, but it could work since we had an outside guy.

"_Okay, the street on the other side of the tank is less crowded. If you move now, you stand a chance. You got ammo?"_

"In that duffel bag I dropped out there, and guns. Can I get to it?" Rick asked, and I knew that we could really use those weapons.

"_Forget the bag, okay? It's not an option. What do you have on you?"_ The guy answered, dashing our hopes for the extra firepower. Rick dropped the mike, as he scrambled to pick up the gun he had left behind him, and I picked it up.

"I got two magazines, only one bullet down. That's twenty nine rounds," I informed him, looking over at Rick to see that he had a full magazine, but had skittered back to check the soldier for more ammo. I arched an eyebrow when I saw that he had pocketed a hand grenade, but shook it off. "And he's got a Beretta with one clip. That's fifteen rounds."

_"__Make 'em count. Jump off the right side of the tank, keep going in that direction. There's an alley up the street, maybe fifty yards. Be there."_

I nodded, forgetting that he couldn't actually see into the tank, and moved towards the hatch. Seeing a small hand shovel, I took it and passed it to Rick, who climbed up first, opening the hatch into the hot zone. I heard the growling of the walkers immediately, and heard Rick grunt as he struck the walker still on top of the tank.

As soon as his legs were gone, I lifted myself out of the hatch, blinking at the sun, before I followed Rick, who had practically thrown himself off the tank and landed heavily on the ground. I jumped down, albeit with a little more grace than my best friend, being used to jumping off tanks and AV's onto hard ground, and withdrew one Glock and my magic knife. It never misses.

Rick had already started shooting walkers when I caught him up, and I quickly followed suit, taking out the ones he missed as we rushed towards the alley the radio guy had told us to head to. I had gone through half of my clip when a metal fence swung out and Rick almost shot our savior in the face.

"Whoa! Not dead! Come on! Come on!" He urged us, as we all ran down the alley, Rick and I twisting round as we round to try and take out some of the walkers who were following. "Faster! Come on! Come on!"

The guy, who looked Asian and couldn't be any older than his mid-twenties, then turned and started climbing up a ladder. Rick pushed me up next, still firing at the walkers who were getting ever closer. I made sure to climb that ladder as fast as I could so Rick could start climbing.

I paused a moment and saw Rick still on the ground, and cursed under my breath.

"What the hell are you doing? Get your ass up here, Grimes! Come on!" I yelled at him, my heart thumping as I saw how close the walkers were, but then he started to climb and he was just out of reach when the walkers got to the ladder.

As I got to the top, a hand waited to help me, so I took it, already having trusted this complete stranger with our lives anyway. The guy helped me up and then I turned and did the same for Rick.

For a moment, all three of us stood on the metal walkway, leaning against the railing, panting as we tried to catch our breath. I glanced at Rick and the new guy, both looking completely exhausted. Normally, I wouldn't be this winded by such a brisk run and climb, but I guess I hadn't been training as rigorously the past three months as I usually do.

"Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood. You the new sheriff come riding in to clean up the town, dragging your girlfriend along for the ride?" The new guy mocked us, and I grinned, just glad to be alive that I barely noticed that Rick didn't correct him.

"It wasn't my intention."

"Yeah, whatever. Yee-haw. You're still a dumbass, and she's probably even more of a dumbass, since she had a chance to ride off into the sunset and didn't take it."

Rick's eyes connected with mine, and I saw the confusion there.

"Before they pulled us down, I had an opening. There weren't that many walkers near me, I could have gotten past and outta the city, but…that meant leaving you," _And not even certain death was going to make me do that again _were the words that I left unsaid. No need to let him know just how crazy I was about him, not when we were still searching for his 'ex-wife' and son. I turned to the Asian dude, and held out my hand. "Sergeant Thea Winters. Officer Friendly goes by Rick. Thank you."

"Glenn. You're welcome," Glenn shook my hand, and I smiled at him, as Rick tucked his spare gun into Glenn's bag. He looked down and his face blanched. "Oh, no."

Rick and I followed his gaze, and saw that there was a walker who had started a slow climb up the ladder, its hungry eyes watching the three of us as we hesitated on climbing the next ladder. It was a long climb. Like a 'fall to your death and your face will be unrecognizable' long climb. Glenn moved to climb first, still leading us, but turned to us first.

"The bright side? It'll be the fall that kills us. I'm a glass half-full kind of guy."

* * *

Surprisingly, no one fell from the incredibly long climb, and we all survived to start walking the rooftops, like some sort of backwards vigilante group. Picture Batman, Robin and Batgirl, but during the day. We mostly walked in silence, focusing on not falling to our deaths, until Rick decided to start asking questions. Probably to satisfy the cop half of him that needed all the details.

"You the one that barricaded the alley?"

"Somebody did," Glenn replied, hopping over a small wall that led to another rooftop. Rick climbed over next and then helped me over, not that I needed it, but sometimes it's nice to know chivalry isn't yet dead. "I guess when the city got overrun. Whoever did it was thinking not many geeks would get through."

Glenn half-ran, half-jogged over to a small roof access hatch, Rick and I adopting the same speed to keep up with him.

"Back at the tank, why did you stick your neck out for us?" Rick questioned, as he lifted the hatch up the full way as Glenn ripped off his backpack and dropped it down the hole, gesturing for me to do the same. I did, reluctantly I might add, and hoped that nothing inside would break.

"Call it foolish, naïve hope, that if I'm ever that far up shit creek, somebody might do the same for me," He answered, lowering himself onto the first rung that led down the hatch. "Guess I'm an even bigger dumbass than you two."

Rick gestured for me to go next, so I dropped myself into the hatch, grabbing the rungs to stop myself from falling, and quickly clambered down, the light cutting out halfway as Rick closed the hatch. As soon as my feet touched the ground, I was bending down to grab my backpack, swinging it back onto my shoulders. Rick was suddenly at my side, and we both raced after Glenn, who had pulled out a walkie-talkie, and was rambling into it as he hurtled himself out of the building we were in and down a new flight of stairs.

"I'm back. Got two guests plus four geeks in the alley." Glenn informed the other unknown person, and despite the fact he had just saved our bacon, my back went up at the fact he had other people. We barely knew him, and we certainly did not know how many people he had with him, or what they were like. It could be even more dangerous than the walkers.

We paused at the two walkers who stood between us and the door we needed to get to, but just as I was about to push forward and take care of it, two guys covered in heavy padding and wearing helmets burst out the door with baseball bats and began to beat the crap out of the walkers. Glenn tugged at my arm, pulling me along behind him as he pegged it to the door, Rick following close behind.

As soon as we were through the door, a blonde civvie had Rick pushed back against some storage shelves, with a gun pointed at him. I immediately drew my own and aimed it at her, taking the safety off.

"Son of a bitch. We ought to kill you." She hissed at him, waving the gun in his face, and my grip on my Glock tightened in response.

"Just chill out, Andrea. Back off." One of the other two guys ordered, but she didn't.

"You should do as he says, Andrea. I've had a real bad day, and you need to back off."

Another woman, a slim, dark-skinned woman with cropped black hair, appeared next to the blonde, and I glanced at her to see if she would be a threat, but her words convinced me that the blonde was the only one I had to worry about. She seemed to be the only one with real fire-power and a short fuse.

"Come on, ease up." She instructed Andrea, but the other woman simply shook her head and scoffed.

"Ease up? You're kidding me, right? We're dead because of these stupid assholes."

"You will be unless you step away now. You'd better listen to your friends, because out of the two of us, I'm guessing I'm the only one with who's actually pulled the trigger before. Pull the trigger, don't pull the trigger. Two die, or none die. That's your choice, Andrea. Make it quickly." I suggested, chambering a round in my gun, putting the pressure on her.

Her blue eyes turned to me, and she must've seen something in my expression, or in my eyes, that made her decision for her; maybe it was determination, maybe it was the fear, I don't know. All I know is she lowered her gun, tears in her eyes, and backed away slowly.

"We're dead, all of us, because of you two." Andrea stated, choking up with emotion that I didn't really understand. I placed my gun back into its holster, and looked back at Glenn, silently asking him what she was talking about. He just shrugged in return, so I waited for someone to explain.

"I don't understand." Rick said, and a big guy with dark hair and eyes, and a light tan to his skin, grabbed Rick by the arm, making me tense up all over again. People had better stop manhandling my friend, or I was going to lose it. He pushed him forward, with the heavy set black guy and the two women following behind him. Glenn came up behind me, and gently nudged me forward. I looked at him, and his expression asked me to trust him. So I did. I walked at his side as we followed the others, listening to the clear leader as he explained everything and lead us through the building.

"Look, we came into the city to scavenge supplies. You know what the key to scavenging is? Surviving. You know the key to surviving? Sneaking in and out, tiptoeing," The guy snapped, leading us into a store front, which had wide, glass doors, and I started to see what he was talking about. Walkers stretched along the doors, thumping their fists against the outer doors, trying to break through. "Not shooting up the streets like it's the OK Corral."

"Every geek for miles heard you popping off rounds." The other guy, whose name was still unknown to us, stated, and I felt guilty for a moment. Only a moment because I realized that without shooting those walkers, we would have died. It was a matter of survival, and I refused to apologize for the fact I was still alive.

"You just rang the dinner bell." Andrea added.

"Get the picture now?" The leader questioned, and I felt my hand twitching towards my Glock in its holster when I saw a walker smashing the glass in the outer door with a large piece of broken concrete. The rest of them skittered backwards, Rick pulling me back along with him, when the glass cracked slightly. I knew it was only a matter of time before they got past the first set of doors, and that we needed a plan, quickly, but apparently, they wanted all the unnecessary details first.

"What the hell were you doing out there anyway?" Andrea asked, looking to Rick for answers.

"Trying to flag the helicopter." Rick informed them, and even I was giving him an incredulous look. What chopper? I hadn't heard slash seen a helicopter?

"Helicopter? Man, that's crap. Ain't no damn helicopter."

"It was just a hallucination. You were imaging things. It happens." The dark-skinned woman suggested, and I saw the defensive look on Rick's face, and knew that he was certain that he had seen a helicopter.

"He saw it." I defended, even though I agreed with her. Rick shot me a grateful look, and I replied with a small smile.

"Hey, T-Dog, try that CB," The leader instructed the other guy, and I felt better, being able to put another name to another face. "Can you contact the others?"

"Others? The refugee center?" Rick questioned, and I saw all the sad, almost bitter looks of the others, confirming what I, and even Rick deep down, had already suspected. There was no refugee center. At least, not anymore.

"Yeah, the refugee center. They've got biscuits waiting at the oven for us." The other woman said sarcastically and I frowned at her.

"I sent his family to the refugee center. His wife and son. How about we try a little sensitivity, a little civility, huh? Or did those things end along with the rest of the world?" She opened her mouth to retaliate, but T-Dog cut her off, his eyes on the CB radio in his hands.

"Got no signal. Maybe the roof." He said, a gunshot from above punctuating his sentence. There were more of them?

"Oh, no. Is that Dixon?" Andrea asked, almost sounding both exasperated and terrified, as they all turned and raced towards the source of the noise. This Dixon person sounded like they were going to be a handful, especially since the words 'maniac' and 'crazy asshole' were thrown into the mix.

Glenn urged us to follow, his nervous eyes still on the walker covered doors, and I let him pull me along behind him again, sensing he needed something to anchor him so he didn't start freaking out.

Four more rounds were fired before we managed to get out onto the roof, and standing on the edge, laughing almost hysterically as though the whole thing was incredibly amusing to him, was the guy named Dixon, holding the literal smoking gun.

"Hey, Dixon, are you crazy?" The leader demanded, just as another shot was fired.

The guy laughed again, and my hand instinctively moved until it rested on the handle of my Glock, gripping it tightly when he turned around, waving the rifle in the air.

"Hey! You ought to be more polite to a man with a gun! Huh?" Dixon jumped down from the edge, groaning slightly from the impact to his legs, but the almost manic grin stayed. "Only common sense."

"Man, you wasting bullets we ain't even got, man!" T-Dog berated him, jumping across a pipe and moving towards him, their leader following close behind. In hindsight, that was the guy's first mistake. "And you bring 'em all down here on our ass! Just chill!"

"Looks like we're not your only problem." I muttered to Glenn, who I could tell wanted to argue with me, but eventually had to nod, knowing that I was right. Dixon was a problem. A big one.

"Hey, bad enough I've got this taco-bender on my ass all day," Dixon gestured to the other guy standing at T-Dog's side, and I arched an eyebrow at the racial insensitivity of the guy, but having heard much worse in the army, I wasn't surprised at it. "Now I'm gonna take orders from you? I don't think so, bro. That'll be the day."

This was when T-Dog should have just walked away from the racist, southern redneck, dismissing his racism as petty, small town southern ignorance, but he didn't. That was mistake number two.

"That'll be the day? You got something you want to tell me?" T-Dog demanded, and the Latino leader decided to intervene, knowing that it wouldn't end well if he didn't.

"Hey, T-Dog, just leave it. It ain't worth it," He tried, but T-Dog wasn't having it. That was his third mistake. He told the guy no, but the leader continued to speak, hoping to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand. "Now, Merle, just relax, okay? We've got enough trouble."

"Do you want to know the day?" Dixon asked T-Dog, both of them ignoring the other man's words. Mistake number four.

"Yeah."

"I'll tell you the day, Mr "Yo". It's the day I take orders from a nigger." Merle stated, and I was surprised when T-Dog swung his fists at the guy. Mistake number five. Dixon knocked T-Dog down with the butt of his rifle to the man's face, putting it down to follow it up with his fists.

Rick rushed over to intervene, earning himself a punch to the head, knocking him over the pipe. I rushed towards Rick, helping him up, intending on letting Dixon's group deal with him, but when I heard someone hit the pipe hard, I turned to see Merle kicking T-Dog while he was on the ground, the other four watching almost helplessly until the leader tried to pull Dixon away and got himself a sharp elbow to the stomach, probably winding him.

"You okay?" I asked, gripping his chin so I could see if there was any damage to his face, but other than a small bruise that could potentially form later, he was okay.

"Fine."

"We're gonna have ourselves a little pow-wow, huh? Talk about who's in charge," Merle's voice carried over to us, and I shook my head at him. What an asshole. "I vote me. Anybody else? Huh? Democracy time, y'all. Show of hands, huh? All in favour? Huh? Come on. Let's see 'em."

I looked over to see that the others were all raising the hands, as they crowded round T-Dog on the ground, and I gave Rick a meaningful look that basically said '_if there's any time to get in with these people, it's now'_. He nodded, grabbing Merle's discarded rifle, and we both headed over to the others.

"Anybody else? Huh? Anybody?" Merle questioned, and Rick raised the butt of the rifle, as soon as he was close enough.

"Yeah." Rick said, grabbing Merle's attention, just before he smacked him round the face with his own weapon, knocking him on his ass. Pressing his knee down onto Dixon's face to keep him in place, he cuffed his arm to the pipe and heaved him into a sitting position, so they could talk face to face.

"Who the hell are you, man?" Dixon hissed, and I moved over to T-Dog, letting Rick handle the Southern asshole. I pulled my backpack off, and rooted through it until I found my field kit. Opening it up, I grabbed a couple of anti-septic wipes, and got to work cleaning up the worst of his cuts, all while listening to Rick and Dixon.

"Officer Friendly. Look here, Merle. Things are different now. There are no niggers any more. No dumb-as-shit, inbred white-trash fools either. Only dark meat and white meat. There's us and the dead. We survive this by pulling together not apart."

I smiled at Rick's semi-speech, wiping away the blood and sweat mix from T-Dog's face as I did so, knowing that they were all watching my friend as he educated the maniac they had brought with them into this hell hole.

"Screw you, man." Merle groaned, and I rolled my eyes.

"I can see you make a habit of missing the point."

"Yeah? Well, screw you twice."

I heard the tell-tale click of a round being chambered and turned my head briefly to see Rick pressing the barrel of Merle's pistol to the side of the hick's head.

"Ought to be polite to a man with a gun. Only common sense." Rick mocked him, using his own words, and I had to bite my lip to stop laughing despite the complete seriousness of the situation.

"You wouldn't. You're a cop."

"I would." I mumbled, earning a choked back laugh from T-Dog, as I continued to clean up his face, though my eyes would constantly flicker between the task at hand and Rick and Merle's confrontation.

"All I am anymore is a man looking for his son and ex-wife. Anybody that gets in the way of that is gonna lose. I'll give you a moment to think about that," There was a pause as Rick searched Merle's pockets, finding a small vial of white powder. I rolled my eyes when I realized what it was. Like the apocalypse wasn't complicated or bad enough, that asshole had to make it worse by being higher than a fucking kite back when things were normal. "Got some on your nose there."

"What are you gonna do? Arrest me?" Merle chuckled, as Rick straightened and walked closer to the edge of the roof, but his laughter was cut off when he saw what Rick was about to do. "Hey! What are you doing?"

Rick ignored him, and chucked the drugs off the side of the building. Still ignoring the guy's threats, Rick walked away, and I finished with T-Dog.

"There. Unless you smush some dirt in it on purpose, you have no chance of infection," I told him, and he nodded at me gratefully. "Don't need any stitches or anything like that, so lucky escape."

"Thanks." T-Dog said, and I just nodded at him, as I packed my field kit back up, and replaced it in my backpack.

"Were you a doctor before?" Andrea questioned, and I shook my head, with a smile at the thought. No, I didn't save lives, I took them in the name of my country. In a war I wasn't really sure we had any business fighting, but still I joined up and I had to follow orders. It's the life I chose.

"Nah, I served in Afghanistan and Iraq before this. First female Ranger in the US Army's 75th Regiment," I said, smiling at her as I slung my backpack onto my back again, and stood up. "One month after returning to American soil and the dead start walking. Can't seem to escape war zones."

"Wow," Andrea said, not expecting that answer, and I shrugged in reply, before walking to the ledge and looking over, seeing the masses of dead below. Andrea joined me, her hands flat against the wall along the edge of the building. "My God, it's like Times Square down there."

"How's that signal?" Morales questioned, and I was glad that I had been half eavesdropping on his and Rick's conversation during my own, as I finally knew his name. Rick came to stand at my side, and I flashed a smile at him as he took my hand and gripped it in his. We'd managed to make a real mess of this whole Atlanta thing, and not just for us.

Jacqui, the quiet, but opinionated, black woman, had dragged T-Dog over to the wall, leaning him up against it just opposite Merle, and the two continued to exchange hateful glances.

"Like Dixon's brain, weak." T-Dog sniped, earning himself a pointed one finger salute from the redneck, who surprisingly didn't say anything in reply.

"Keep trying." Morales instructed, and just as I opened my mouth to ask who could even help, Andrea beat me to the proverbial punch.

"Why? There's nothing they can do. Not a damn thing."

"Got some people outside the city is all. There's no refugee center. That's a pipe dream." Morales informed us, and I think Rick and I both felt our hearts plummet into our shoes. No refugee center? Was there no hope for Lori, Carl and Shane then? Did they arrive here and fall with the survivors' camp? Or did they manage to escape?

"Fuck." I muttered, squeezing my eyes closed and running my free hand over my hair, still plaited from this morning, even with wisps flying about, tugging off my beanie and tucking it into my backpack behind me.

"Then she's right. We're on our own. Up to us to find a way out." Rick said, and I heard the tone of his voice shift. He was in full deputy, take charge and somehow save the day mode now. Rick would come through for these people. We'd gotten them into this mess, so we'd be the ones to get them out.

"Good luck with that," Dixon scoffed, and I turned my eyes onto him, seeing the casual slouch he had moved into, despite still being cuffed to the pipe. "These streets ain't safe in this part of town from what I hear. Ain't that right, sugar tits?"

The last sentence was aimed at Andrea, who was kneeling down beside a backpack, her own, I think, and organizing it. She looked up at him, with a very uninterested eye, and he continued.

"Hey, honeybunch. What say you get me out of these cuffs, we go off somewhere and bump some uglies? Gonna die anyway." Merle said, not quite managing to convince the blonde with his 'smooth' and clearly overused 'charm'.

"I'd rather." Andrea stated, and I grinned at her response.

"Rug muncher. Figured as much," Merle then noticed me watching the pair, and another wicked grin spread across his chapped lips. "What about you, GI Jane? Wanna spend your last moments with a real man?"

"Sure!" I smirked at his eager expression, as he got what I was implying, but I watched as that eagerness turned into anger at the drop of a hat, as I continued. "Hey, T-Dog, you available?"

T-Dog laughed, as Merle's face turned red, looking as though if he got any angrier, he would do a Bruce Banner on us and Hulk out. My smirk disappeared though, when Morales and Rick started to speak again, this time including me in the conversation.

_"'__The streets ain't safe'_!" Morales mocked Merle's words, almost bitterly. "Now there's an understatement."

"There's got to be a way out of here. A city this size, hell, a building this size, has to have more than one exit." I commented, my eyes on the ground below us, watching the walkers roaming the streets, most of them stumbling around listlessly, some joining the pile-up on the doors to the shop.

"What about under the streets? The sewers?" Rick questioned, and Morales' face dropped, like he hadn't thought of it and was disappointed that they hadn't, or they had thought of it and it was just a no go.

"Oh, man," He mumbled, turning around with a serious expression and setting his eyes on Glenn, who was fiddling with another radio, trying to get a better signal. "Hey, Glenn, check the alley. You see any manhole covers?"

Glenn immediately jumped to his feet, jogged to the other side of the building and took a few moments inspecting the ground for any signs of a way to escape into the sewers. Not the kind of escape route I was hoping for, but beggars can't be choosers, can they? He started back, shaking his head.

"No, must be all out on the street where the geeks are."

"Maybe not," Jacqui mused, and we all looked at her, waiting for her to explain herself. "Old building like this built in the '20s. Big structures often had drainage tunnels into the sewers in case of flooding down in the sub-basements."

"How do you know that?" Glenn asked, and I arched a brow at her. Her answer had been pretty detailed from a pretty narrow field of interest.

"Architect?" I guessed, knowing it was that or some city hall job, or something.

"I worked in the city zoning office." Jacqui corrected, and I nodded.

"Good enough for me. Glenn, wanna take point?" I questioned, pushing myself away from the wall, and walking towards him.

"Point?"

"The lead? God, I'm gonna have to write a dictionary for dummies who don't speak soldier," I lamented, placing a hand on his shoulder and nudging him towards the roof access door, as he looked at me in confusion. "Don't worry, Luke Skywalker, you'll learn the ways of the force. If we live long enough that is."

* * *

**A/N:**

* * *

Hello, lovely people!

Here is the sixth chapter of **'Exit Wounds'**, as promised, and I hope you enjoyed it.

We've officially met some of the Atlanta survivors, and we're now in the thick of what I, and Thea will later in the story, refer to as the **'Atlanta Disaster'**. So what did you think of the chapter?

Oh, and any feedback on Thea so far would be great! Do you guys like her? I hope so, because I've written all the way up until the beginning of Season 2 so far, and I've planned the series all the way up until the start of Season 6, and let me tell you, Thea's journey is going to an awesome but rocky one.

Anyway, thank you to all the reviewers for Chapter Five;

**sweetkitty, shika93, together24x3, jedi-stark, Guest **and **sousie.**

All your support is very much appreciated, and I hope more people start dropping reviews too. It's nice to read through them and work out what you guys want to see and see if I can incorporate that into the story, and also it's just a big motivator to get chapters out when you know that people actually want to read what you're writing. So thank you guys for reading and following and favouriting and reviewing. I really do love and appreciate all of you.

The next update will be on **August 8th**, in three weeks as usual. Also to any of my GoT fans reading, I'm putting up another poll on my page about **'She Runs With Wolves and Lions'**, so please go and check that out and vote.

I guess I'm done here, so thanks again and until the **8th of August**!

SophStratt.


	8. Intestinal Fortitude

**"****We believe in ordinary acts of bravery,**

**In the courage that drives one person,**

**To stand up for another."**

**-Unknown**

* * *

**Chapter Seven – Intestinal Fortitude**

* * *

The sub-basements were dark, the only light came through the half-open shutters on the only two windows in the room, and the torches held by Morales, Andrea, Glenn and myself. Glenn led us straight to the drainage tunnel that Jacqui had suggested would be here.

"Good catch, Jacqui." I murmured to her, as I walked past her to Rick's side, before we all looked down into the hole that led to the tunnel that could potentially lead to our freedom.

"This is it? You sure?" Morales questioned Glenn, since he had the most knowledge of the area.

"I really scoped this place out the other times I was here. It's the only thing in the building that goes down. But I've never gone down it. Who'd want to, right?"

All of us turned our heads to the skinny Korean kid with the baseball cap, and he seemed to realize that he was the one we all expected to take this bullet for us.

"Oh. Great." I felt sorry for the kid, but he did know this area better than any of us. It was only logical he take point down there.

"We'll be right behind you." Andrea said, trying to calm his nerves.

"No, you won't. Not you." Glenn protested, and I winced at the look if indignation on Andrea's face. She was like me, a woman in a man's profession, trying to compete with all the testosterone behind her. Andrea was a civil rights lawyer, in the time when stuff like that mattered, she'd told me as we headed down here. I totally understood all her frustrations, and why she was a little put on by Glenn's refusal of her help. You end up getting tired of being told you can't do something when you know you can.

"Why not me? Think I can't?"

"I wasn't…"

"Speak your mind." Rick encouraged him, and I nodded at him.

"Look, until now I always came here by myself. In and out, grab a few things. No problem. The first time I bring a group, everything goes to hell. No offence," Glenn confessed, and I realized what he was hinting at. He would do this quicker, safer, alone than he would with all of us bumbling along behind him. "If you want me to go down this gnarly hole, fine, but only if we do it my way. It's tight down there. If I run into something, I have to get out quick, I don't want you all jammed up behind me getting me killed."

"Fair enough, but someone goes with you. That's an order. Choose your slackman." I quipped, with a smile that told him to lay out the battle plan.

"I've seen you and John Wayne over here shoot. I'd feel better if you two were out in that store watching those doors, covering our ass," Rick and I exchanged a look, knowing that we both wanted to cover Glenn in the sewer, but Glenn was temporarily calling the shots and what he said made sense. He gestured to Andrea. "You've got the only other gun, so you should go with them. Morales, you be my wingman. Jacqui stays here. Something happens, yell down to get us back up here in a hurry. Okay."

"Okay, everybody knows their jobs." Rick said, clapping Glenn on the shoulder.

Glenn moved to head down the ladder, but I stopped him with a hand to the arm. He looked at me, clearly confused as to why I had stopped him, until I handed him one of my Glocks, along with its silencer.

"It's got half a clip left. Attach the silencer and you won't attract any unwanted attention," I said, as he took it. "Just a precaution."

"Won't you need it?" Glenn asked.

"One is none. Two gives you a chance," I replied, showing him my other Glock, and the two knives tucked into my boots. "I always carry a spare. Besides, you get cornered by something down there, you might not be able to run. Make each bullet count."

Glenn nods, tucking the gun into the back of his jeans, before putting his torch into his mouth and beginning his descent into the dark, eerie drainage tunnel, Morales following quickly behind.

Rick, Andrea and I headed back to the store front, the walkers still pounding on the doors and windows to get in. I looked around in the store, seeing if there was anything that I needed. It may still be considered looting, but there was no one, but Rick, around to enforce that particular law. It was just a clothing store, though, and I already had a spare pair of clothes in my backpack.

"Sorry for the gun in your face." Andrea apologized to Rick, who glanced back at me, as if to say it was my turn now.

"I'm sorry for the same." I offered, and Andrea smiled back at me gratefully.

"People do things when they're afraid."

"Thea wasn't afraid. She seemed so calm, but I guess that's because she's used to it," Andrea shrugged, and I froze in place. So it hadn't been fear she had seen in my expression, or she hadn't noticed it, because I had been scared. I was terrified that I was going to have to watch as my best friend, the love of my life, the most important person in my world, was going to be shot right in front of my eyes and I'd have to see him die. I was frightened at the thought of what his death could do to me, what his death could have made me do to _her_. "Besides, it's not like I was unjustified. You did get us into this."

"If I get us out, would that make up for it?" Rick questioned, as he and Andrea stopped in front of a jewelry counter.

"No, but it'd be a start."

Our attention was momentarily taken by the walkers growling and snarling, still trying to fight the glass that lay between them and their next meal. I walked up to the counter, inspecting the pretty trinkets still on display, as Rick turned back towards Andrea, a smirk tugging on his lips.

"Next time, though, take the safety off. It won't shoot otherwise." My eyes snapped to his. Her safety was on? I can't believe that I missed that. He would have been perfectly fine. It was just another reason to add to the long list of reasons that Rick and I wouldn't have worked. Anything to do with him just clouded my judgment. All I saw was the gun in his face, and saw red.

Andrea looked down at her gun, and deflated a little.

"Oh."

"Is that your gun?" Rick asked, as he tucked Merle's gun into the back of his pants.

"It was a gift. Why?" Andrea questioned, as Rick moved towards her, hand reaching out for her gun, which she handed over, no questions asked. We both watched as Rick slid off the safety, and then explained to her what the now shining dot meant.

"Little red dot means it's ready to fire. You may have occasion to use it."

"Good to know."

"When we get back to your camp, wherever that is, I can teach you to use that thing, if you want?" I offered, extending another olive branch, and Andrea nodded.

"That would be great, thank you."

"Thea's a great tutor. Helped me through Math in high school." Rick divulged, and I rolled my eyes.

"You mean 'tried' to help you. You passed Math by the skin of your teeth, if my memory serves me well, which it does." I teased him, grinning at him from over the counter.

"But I passed, which I wouldn't have, if you hadn't pushed me into a chair and threatened to beat me to within an inch of my life unless I studied. Not exactly appropriate for a tutor to threaten her student." Rick pointed out, and I smirked.

"It was that or bribe you with sexual favors. So I chose the option that didn't end with your mother walking in and having a heart attack." I shrugged, and Rick just stared at me, torn between amusement and something else.

"You two knew each other before then?" Andrea guessed, and we both nodded.

"From diaper days till now, Rick Grimes has been my best friend." I replied, grinning at him.

"Explains the gun to my head. So just friends, or…?" Andrea let her sentence trail off, and I immediately tore my eyes away from Rick at her implication. I coughed weakly into my hand, clearing my throat, and let Rick handle this one.

Except he didn't. He didn't say a word, just let the words she didn't say hang in the air between us, until he finally broke the silence with only two words. The two most frustrating, and open, words in the whole of history.

"It's complicated."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

It's complicated?

What did that mean?

I mean, on my end, things were complicated. I'd had feelings for him since my momma explained to me what love actually meant at six years old. I realized that I was crazy as fuck, head over heels, butterflies swarming in my stomach, in _love _with him when I was seventeen, and that I couldn't have him a week after that. Complicated barely covered everything I felt, but _him_? He had a beautiful family; a wonderful son and a beautiful wife, or ex-wife. That didn't sound complicated.

"Yeah, complicated." I repeated, still staring at him in confusion, before turning my attention to the doors. There were so many walkers against the doors, some were being squished against the glass, smearing blood and bits of dead skin against it. If I didn't have a strong stomach, I probably would have thrown up by now.

Andrea nodded, sensing that was all she was going to get out of us, and decided to look at the jewelry on offer. I was surprised that this place hadn't been ransacked before Glenn found it. Even more surprising was when I checked the register to find all the cash was still in there. Money wasn't really the currency of the world anymore, I guess. Food, water and weapons were the high valued items of today.

"Hm." Andrea hummed, and I looked over to see a necklace resting on her fingers. I moved over to get a better look, preferring that to glaring at the dead who wanted to eat me.

"See something you like?" Rick questioned, coming over to snoop as well, as I took in the mermaid pendant on the thin gold chain. It was quite pretty, but not something I had expected a mature woman like Andrea to be interested in.

"Not me, but I know someone who would," Andrea started, looking between the two of us, before she explained. "My sister."

"Sister? She back at camp?" I asked, hoping she said yes, and that I wouldn't bring up any painful memories of a sister who had passed on. Andrea nodded, a wistful smile on her face, the thought of her sister making her whole face light up in spite of the dire situation we were still in.

"She's still such a kid in some ways. Unicorns, dragons. She's into all that stuff. But mermaids, they rule. She loves mermaids."

"Take it." I suggested, knowing she wanted to.

"There's a cop and an army sergeant staring at me," Andrea retorted. Rick and I both chuckled at her words. Like we would stop her anyway. It's a free-for-all nowadays. You find something that doesn't seem to have an owner anymore, you take it. "Would it be considered looting?"

"I don't think those rules apply any more, do you?" Rick stated, and Andrea smiled, before pocketing the necklace.

"Besides, your sister will be happy that you thought of her in the middle of this bug fuck of a nightmare." I said, and Andrea opened her mouth, probably to ask what bug fuck meant, when the sound of glass smashing cut her off.

Rick and I rushed forward towards the doors, as the walkers piled through the broken outer ones and started to pound against the second, and last, set. Morales, Glenn and Jacqui appeared at our sides, and neither of us lowered our weapons as we looked to them for answers.

"What did you find down there?" Rick asked.

"Not a way out." Morales replied, and I cursed under my breath.

"We need to find a way. Soon." Andrea insisted, saying the words we were all thinking.

"Roof. Regroup on the roof. We'll collect our thoughts and come up with a plan C." I decided, ushering them to the back of the room and up the stairs, twisting my body to watch the doors as I followed them.

* * *

I stared down at the walkers as Rick scanned the surrounding streets through binoculars, looking for something that could get us all out. We needed a vehicle, but we also needed a way to get to said vehicle, which meant we needed a way to walk through the walkers.

"That construction site, those trucks, they always keep keys on hand." Rick pointed out, and I squinted in the direction he had pointed, barely managing to spy the construction site, but not seeing anything else.

"You'll never make it past the walkers." Morales replied, shooting the idea down, but Rick wasn't being deterred. He had seen what they needed to escape the city, he just needed a plan.

"You got me out that tank." Rick reminded Glenn, who shook his head.

"Yeah, but they were feeding. They were distracted." Glenn stated, and I felt a small spark in my mind, as I started to put the puzzle of this situation together.

"Can we distract them again?"

"He's right. Listen to him. He's on to something. A diversion, like on "Hogan's Heroes"." Merle contributed, before Jacqui told him to shut it. He hadn't offered up something stupid though. A diversion could work, if they had something that could actually help.

"They're drawn by sound, right?" Rick mused, and Glenn nodded.

"Right, like dogs. They hear a sound, they come."

"What else?" Rick pressed, and I looked at him.

"Sound, sight, smell…you name it." I answered him, my words creating the beginnings of a plan in my head.

"They can tell us by smell?" Rick asked, incredulously. Morgan and I had probably forgotten to mention that. Well, I'd told him now. No harm done.

"Can't you?" Glenn demanded.

"They smell dead, we don't. It's pretty distinct."

And Andrea pushed the idea into my head into a full-blown plan, and I clapped my hands, and pointed at her before I laughed gleefully. Everybody stared at me as though I'd grown three new heads, except Rick, who looked as though he had come to the same conclusion as I had, and I just grinned, before I decided to put them out of their misery.

"I got it. I have got the solution to our problem!" I called over my shoulder, as I half-jogged, half-skipped to the roof access, the others following behind…except Merle, who was still stuck cuffed to the pipe.

They all followed me down, and Rick and I explained my admittedly terrible, but incredibly genius plan, and as soon as we hit the shop floor, we grabbed all the supplies necessary, with a little grumbling about how it was such a bad idea from Glenn.

"If bad ideas were an Olympic event, this would take the gold." He said, as I grabbed two large trench coats off a rack.

"I never said it was a great solution, didn't even say it was good…I just said it would work!" I grinned at him, as I handed him the coats, and grabbed a few more.

"He's right, stop. Take some time to think things through." Morales snapped at me, looking between Rick and me.

"How much time?" Rick questioned. "They already got through one set of doors. That glass won't hold forever."

"Morales, it will work. I know it will. I didn't get promoted to sergeant for my good looks and my perfect aim. It's because I'm a good strategist. I make on the fly decisions, but they work, with minimal casualties. Though today, we are aiming for no casualties." I retorted, seeing his eyes soften, and he nodded at me, accepting my words and the plan.

There really was no other option anyway.

* * *

Rick and Morales darted out into the alley, grabbing one of the fallen walkers that had been put down earlier, before dragging it into the warehouse part of the building, where the rest of us waited, all dressed in overcoats and rubber gloves.

Rick, wearing a visor helmet, smashed open one of those 'in case of emergency' ax boxes, grabbed the necessary weapon and brought it over to us. The dead walker had been dropped at our feet, and we all stared at it as we contemplated what we had to do. It was not going to be pretty. Rick took a couple spaces back, gripped the handle of the axe a little tighter, raised it over his head…and just when he was about to bring it down, sinking it into the stomach of the twice dead man, he stopped himself.

He dropped the axe to the ground, along with his helmet, then yanked off his gloves, before he started rooting around in the dead man's pockets.

I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing, when he pulled out a wallet.

"Wayne Dunlap," Rick read, looking up at us, his eyes settling on me. This had been our idea, thought up by me, the rough edges sanded down by him. It was easy to forget that these creatures had once been human, been people with lives and families, jobs and bills to pay. It made it easier to go through with putting a bullet in their brain to pretend that none of that history existed. "Georgia license. Born in 1979."

He handed Wayne's license to Glenn, who inspected it with guilty eyes.

"He had $28 in his pocket when he died. And a picture of a pretty girl," Rick continued, and I stepped closer to him and rested my gloved hand on his shoulder, getting him to glance up at me again. Those blue eyes held guilt, but acceptance as well. We did what we had to do to survive, even if it meant swallowing the guilt and doing the stuff no one else could. "'With love, from Rachel'. He used to be like us, worrying about bills or the rent or the Super Bowl. If I ever find my son, I'm gonna tell him about Wayne."

With that said, Rick returned Wayne's wallet to his pants, and pulled on his gloves and helmet again.

"One more thing," Glenn halted us, as Rick picked up his axe. "He was an organ donor."

Rick nodded, gritting his teeth, locking his jaw, then bringing the ax down hard, slicing through Wayne's stomach easily. Everybody flinched, and I gritted my teeth and stepped back a little bit. The sound was the worst part of it. The squelch of the flesh giving way to the sharp blade.

"_Madre de Dios!"_ Morales signed a cross over his head and chest, muttering in Spanish.

Everybody groaned again, when the axe swung down and cut off one of Wayne's legs. In hindsight, this plan Rick and I had developed seemed more and more like something from a Saw movie.

"Damn!"

"Oh, God!" Somebody else muttered.

"Fuck." I winced, as Rick brought the axe down again two, three, four more times, before he stopped, panting slightly as he handed Morales the helmet and axe and told him to keep chopping.

I had moved to Glenn's side, seeing that he looked the worse off of everyone, his face becoming paler and paler by the second.

"I am so gonna hurl." Glenn complained, as I began rubbing circles into his back, trying to soothe him a little bit.

"Later," Rick ordered, as we all flinched at the crunching and squelching of Wayne's body as Morales continued to hack it to pieces. I sighed in relief when Morales straightened up, signaling that he was stopping, forgetting that the worst part was about to happen. "Everybody got gloves? Don't get any on your skin or in your eyes."

Gritting my teeth and thinking happy thoughts, the same thing I'm sure everybody, but Glenn, was trying to do, I sunk my hands into Wayne's open stomach, and grabbed a handful of the mush that was his insides. Moving aside to let Jacqui get her gloves dirty, I took my handful of hell and rubbed it onto Rick's back and shoulders, coating him in dark red.

When I had volunteered to be the one covered, Rick had shot me down, saying that they needed someone with training to stay here in case the walkers managed to break through. I called bullshit, but he still insisted I stay, and because I just wanted to get out of Atlanta, I stopped arguing. Rangers may have led the way into war, but apparently not down a walker infested street, covered in blood and guts.

"Oh, God. Oh, God," Glenn continued to moan, the little color he had still in his face flushed away completely as Jacqui, Andrea and Morales continued to cover him in dead walker. "Oh, jeez. Oh, this is bad. This is really bad."

"Think about something else. Puppies and kittens." Rick instructed, trying to take Glenn's mind of it.

What T-Dog said next made me regret tending to his cuts with my limited supply of antiseptics.

"Dead puppies and kittens."

Glenn vomited almost instantly, the sound of it hitting the floor almost as bad as the squelching Wayne's body made as I dug around in it. We all stared at T-Dog, five pairs of eyes burning holes into his body, as we all questioned why we had let Rick stop Merle from making the guy's face unrecognizable.

"That is just evil. What is wrong with you?" Andrea scolded him, as I glared at him, applying more gunk to Rick's front.

"Next time, let the cracker beat his ass." Jacqui quipped, and I had to hold in a laugh at that.

"I'm sorry, yo." T-Dog apologized, grabbing another handful of Wayne.

"You suck. Oh! Oh!" Glenn groaned, and I patted him on the back.

"On the bright side, don't you feel a little bit better now?" I asked, trying not to grin at the filthy look Glenn gave me.

"Oh yeah, tons." Glenn retorted, still bent half over, as Andrea hung a chunk of Wayne's large intestine around his shoulders.

"Do we smell like them?" Rick questioned, and there was no need to take a questioning whiff.

The smell was so strong, I was certain that I'd still be smelling it ten years from now. In fact, I was trying to take as few breaths as possible, because breathing through my mouth meant I could almost taste the smell of it, and that made no sense, but was almost ten times worse. I simply nodded, as I stood in front of him, rubbing one last handful down his arms.

"Glenn, you still got that gun?" I questioned, and Glenn straightened up and nodded, about to reach round to grab it out of his jeans. "Keep it. May end up needing to use it."

"If we make it back-" Rick started, but I cut him off.

"_When_ you make it back."

"When we make it back, be ready." Rick instructed, his blue eyes roaming my face, like he was trying to memorize it; every freckle, every eyelash, the exact green of my eyes. I sighed, before I leant forward, careful not to take off any of his walker goo, and pressed my lips to his cheek quickly.

"Be smart, be safe." I ordered him, my voice just loud enough for him to hear, and he nodded once.

"What about Merle Dixon?" T-Dog questioned, and Rick tugged off a glove to root around in his pocket to find the cuff key, before tossing it to the man. Dixon was not going to be happy when he saw who had the power to release him.

"Give me the axe," Rick instructed, and Morales quickly passed it to him. "We need more guts."

We all groaned, as Rick started to cut Wayne's already desecrated body up even more.

If the apocalypse ever ended, and civilization managed to get back to the way it was, I would never watch another slasher movie again. I had seen enough guts and gore to last me several lifetimes.

When Rick and Glenn entered the alleyway, the rest of us raced back up to the roof to wait and watch, bursting through the door to the roof, and I swore I saw Merle Dixon jump.

"Hey, what's happening, man?" Merle wondered, watching us as we sprinted across the roof to get to the ledge.

"Hey, T-Dog, try that CB," Morales instructed, all of us ignoring Dixon as we hurried to get an eye on our friends. I grabbed Merle's discarded rifle before I headed to the edge, looking down the scope to see if I could find Rick. "Be careful you don't fire that thing and hit one of our guys."

"They called me Eagle Eye in my squadron, Morales, because I never missed a target," I said, as I scoured the street for Rick and Glenn using the scope. "Not once have I ever shot a friendly, disguise or no."

"Base camp, this is T-Dog. Anybody hear me? Can anybody out there hear me?" T-Dog radioed the others outside the city, but there wasn't anything they could do, even if T managed to get them on the radio.

"Found them!" I called, at the same time as Morales exclaimed, "There!" Both of us pointed in the general direction of our two non-walkers, so Andrea and Jacqui knew where to look, then the thunder started. A bad omen.

"That asshole is out on the street with the handcuff keys?" Merle demanded, and I looked back at him, as T-Dog waved the key at him.

"You'd better start groveling." I commented, before turning my eyes back to the street.

"Base camp, this is T-Dog. Can anybody hear me?" T-Dog tried again, as I looked back down my scope.

_"__Hello? Hello? Reception's bad on this end. Repeat. Repeat."_ A man's voice came on the other end, and I sighed in relief that we had managed to get through.

"Shane, is that you?" My eyes flashed towards T-Dog on the floor at my feet. Did he just say Shane? "We're in some deep shit. We're trapped in the department store. Geeks all over the place. Hundreds of 'em. We're surrounded. Shane? Anybody copy?"

"Shane? He a cop?" I questioned, hope filling me at the mention of that name. Maybe, just maybe…

"Yeah. Small town sheriff's deputy. Why?" Morales asked, everyone staring at me now.

I shook my head, a broad grin spread across my face and I didn't even bother to stop the laughter that bubbled up and spilled out of my mouth. I laughed, tears spilling from my eyes, but happy tears. Shane was alive, which meant so was Lori and Carl. I placed the rifle against the wall, then turned to Morales properly.

"He have a woman with him? And her son? Lori and Carl? They with him?" I questioned, resting my hands on his shoulders, getting him to focus completely on me.

"Yeah, how'd you know that? You know 'em?"

"Oh my God! We were supposed to meet here in Atlanta, but I stayed behind to help the army! They're alive!" I held a hand over my mouth, trying to hold back the hysterical laughter, but failing for the most part. "When Rick and I rode in and saw what a mess this place was, I gave up hope that they were alive. They were outside the city the whole time. Oh my God, oh God, I'm so-Oh God!"

Morales patted my arm, a warm smile on his lips, the others, but Merle, all smiled…until the rain started to fall. The brief moment of pure elation I felt was completely wiped away, as I realized that this sudden heavy downpour spelled trouble for Rick and Glenn on the street. I grabbed the rifle again, peering down the scope until I found them, thunder clapping in the background of my focus. They were almost there.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I muttered under my breath, my good news completely forgotten.

"It's just a cloudburst. We get 'em all the time. It'll pass real quick." Morales tried to comfort us, but I knew no matter how quickly the rain stopped, it would have already done its damage.

The walkers around Rick and Glenn started to take notice that they weren't actually dead, and then Rick plunged his axe into the nearest walker's head and started to run, Glenn following very quickly behind. They took out the walkers who got too close to them, but since they were all moving too fast, I didn't want to fire the rifle and accidentally hit Rick or Glenn.

I didn't start shooting until Rick and Glenn made the fence, and the walkers started to climb it. Rick did the same, while Glenn got the keys, the pair of us slowing the walkers down, but not really making a dent in them. As soon as one was put down, another took its place.

Rick and Glenn got the van running, at the same time the walkers broke down the fence and the rain stopped. The walkers started to rush towards the van, so Rick took a detour, turning down a different road, which made it seem like he was driving away. He wouldn't leave me behind. Not me. He wouldn't.

"They're leaving us," Andrea cried, as Morales and I both protested against it. "No, no, come back."

"Rick wouldn't leave. He's got to clear the front doors so we can get out, right? How does he do that with just him and Glenn? Huh?" I asked Andrea, grabbing her shoulders to bring her attention away from the speeding van in the distance to me. "Noise, Andrea! One of them will find something that will draw the walkers away, while the other brings the van round. From then on, it's a cake walk, okay? They're coming back. Nobody is leaving you behind."

Andrea shook her head, and I saw the hope dwindling in her eyes. She just wanted to get home to her sister. I understood that. They all just wanted to get out of the city, alive, and get back to their camp. I just wanted Rick back at my side, where I knew he was safe.

"Glenn wouldn't let him drive away and leave us behind, Andrea. You know he wouldn't." Morales tried to convince the blonde, but I knew that until she saw it with her eyes, she wouldn't believe it.

"_Those roll-up doors at the front of the store facing the street. Meet us there and be ready."_ Glenn's voice cracked through the CB, and I gestured to it.

"What did I say? Grab your stuff and let's go! We're on the home stretch." I insisted, grabbing the red backpack and handing it to Andrea, before I rushed to the roof exit, hurtling myself down the stairs, leaving Dixon for T-Dog to deal with since he had the key.

"C'mon!" I heard Andrea urge the others, hearing their rushed footsteps behind me, and Dixon's muffled protests.

I burst into the store front, eyeing the cracked glass and the walkers, listening to them scream as they pounded against the door. I just darted past those doors, pushing through another door to the roll-up doors Glenn had instructed us to wait by. I saw the chains that would open the door, and I gripped it with my hand, waiting for some sign that I could open it. Morales, Jacqui and Andrea blew into the room a few seconds later, dropping their bags so they could help me with the door when the time came.

We waited a few moments, before we heard something that sounded an awful lot like a siren or some sort of car alarm.

"What is that?" Andrea questioned, as we all strained to hear what exactly was going on beyond the doors.

"The diversion." I answered simply, my eyes on the metal that separated us from our two friends and a whole bunch of walkers. The siren got louder, like it was right outside, before it got quieter and quieter until we couldn't hear it anymore.

T-Dog burst through the door then, almost giving me, and probably the others, a heart attack considering how quiet it was until his arrival.

"They're here! Let's go! Let's go! They're in here!" T-Dog exclaimed, and we all started yanking the chain to open the door, panicking as the walkers had burst through the last set of doors into the store. We started pulling even harder when there was three knocks coming from the other side of the door, hoping for it to be Glenn or Rick. "Let's go!"

"Open the door!" Andrea cried, and the door started to rise, until it was just high enough for us to walk under.

Rick was waiting on the other side, the van open and waiting for us to all pile in with the bags. Rick grabbed a bag from Andrea, then held out his hand to me. I gripped it and let him haul me up into the back of the van, heading towards the front, but not taking the passenger seat. Rick would need Morales there to give him directions to their camp.

I parked myself down directly behind the passenger seat, so I could see Rick at all times, and the rest of the group. Andrea, Jacqui and T-Dog all piled in next, with Morales climbing in last, just as the walkers started to pile in through the door and into the room we had all just vacated. They saw us, their hungry eyes locked in, and they started to stumble after the van, even after Rick hit the gas and pulled out.

When Morales pulled the loading door down, cutting off our view of the dead chasing after us, I breathed a sigh of relief. That is, until we all realized that Merle hadn't made it into the van, or off the roof for that matter.

We all exchanged glances, before settling on T-Dog, who was sat beside me, and up until then had been half-holding, half-squeezing my knee out of fear, just like Andrea had a vice-like grip on Jacqui's forearm, not that the other woman seemed to notice.

He sighed, facing our questioning stares head on.

"I dropped the damn key." He stated, guilt written all over his face. He had hated that bastard, we all knew that, but he didn't actually intend to leave him there.

"Well, fuck." I blurted out. I felt bad for the racist, sexist, probably homophobic Southerner, even if he technically brought it upon himself. He had no hope cuffed to that damn pipe and walkers swarming the building. They'd hear his yelling, and find him in no time.

I saw Andrea shoot Rick a sharp look, before she actually asked whatever was on her mind.

"Where's Glenn?"

"He's, uh, driving a stolen car along the 85." Rick answered, keeping his eyes on the road, probably preferring to concentrate on that than our stares burning imaginary holes into the back of his head.

"Come again?"

* * *

**A/N:**

Hello lovely readers!

So this is Chapter Seven, and we are out of Atlanta!

What did you think? Thea found out that Lori, Shane and Carl are still alive, even if she promptly forgot due to the situation at hand, but the reunion will be in the next chapter! And it will be awesome! We'll get to see more of Rick and Thea's friendship, along with the introduction of Thea and Shane's friendship and Lori and Thea's friendship, and Thea immediately spots something different about the pair. They don't call her Eagle Eye for no reason.

So thank you to the three reviewers of the last chapter. I wish there had been more of you, but I am grateful for the comments I did receive;

**NESSAANCALIME6913, Proxy-Blue22** and **klandgraf2007**.

You three are awesome and I love you guys!

Okay so the next update will be on **August 29th**, so watch out for it :)

Thanks for reading, and see you on the **29th**!

SophStratt.


	9. Gone Elvis

**"****I sustain myself with the love of family."**

**-Maya Angelou**

* * *

**Chapter Eight – Gone Elvis**

* * *

"Best not to dwell on it that Merle got left behind," Morales advised Rick, who shot him an incredulous look before turning back to the road. "Nobody's gonna be sad he didn't come back…except maybe Daryl."

"Daryl?" Rick questioned, and I turned my head, curious as to who would care enough about Merle Dixon to be actually saddened by his apparent demise.

"His brother." And that sated my curiosity, as well as made me feel guilty. I could have taken the key from Rick, instead of T-Dog. I could have let him loose, and he could have come back with us. If he had tried to hurt Rick or T-Dog or anybody, I would have stopped him, but he'd still be there for his brother.

It was then that we heard those sirens again coming up behind the van, signaling a stolen car was speeding behind us. Glenn pulled up beside us, whooping and hollering, clearly enjoying the fast sports car that he and Rick hotwired for the distraction that saved us, before he peeled away, hurtling down the road in front of us.

"At least somebody's having a good day." Morales half-smiled, and I nodded, but there was something tingling at the back of my mind. Something I'd forgotten, something that I needed to tell Rick but I just couldn't put my finger on what it was or what it could be.

I knew that niggling feeling was going to bug me until I worked out exactly what it was I had forgotten, but after a few minutes of inner reflection, I decided to give up for the time being, focusing on preparing myself to Morales' group's reaction to the two new comers; Rick and I. I wondered if they would be welcoming or hostile or what. People didn't typically trust new people nowadays, and I know the only reason we'd gained our small group's trust was because we'd both put them into the frying pan and took them out of it, and then saved them from the fire afterwards.

"Turn left here, it'll take you up a dirt road that leads to the quarry. We've set up camp at the top," Morales guided Rick, who followed his instructions, until he was forced to park behind a minivan. "Come meet everybody."

Morales and the others climbed out of the van, hurrying to go reunite with their loved ones and friends, while Rick and I gathered ourselves in the van. I plonked myself down in Morales' vacated seat, looking over at Rick, who stared right back at me.

"We survived," I stated, smiling as we both nodded, and then I looked out the window and saw Morales lift up his daughter, and hug his son, and then I remembered. "Oh fuck."

"What? What's the matter?" Rick questioned, concern etched all over his face as I felt my face fall, completely annoyed at myself for forgetting _that._ Like how could I forget _that_? It was the best thing that had happened to me in two months, besides finding Rick in that hospital.

"I can't believe that I forgot that. Since we got in the van, and the adrenaline ran out, I've been bugged by this thing that I was struggling to remember, but I just remembered, and I can't believe that I forgot it. Like it's the greatest thing to happen for two days, besides you waking up and finding you, and I forgot it! Who does that?"

"We were under a lot of stress, whatever it is I'm sure that now you've remembered, it's going to be okay." Rick replied, trying to soothe my self-loathing.

"It is, because it really is the greatest thing, Rick. It's what we wanted."

"What are you talking about?" Rick asked, but before I could answer, Morales called out to us and cut me off.

"Hey, Helicopter Boy, Eagle Eye, come say hello!"

Rick looked at me and I nodded encouragingly, jumping out the van myself, and rushing round the front of it, eager to see if I was right.

"The guy's a cop, like you, and she's a soldier." I barely heard Morales say, as Rick came to stand by my side.

It was like everything had slowed down to a dramatic movie scene. I locked eyes with Shane, a giant grin spread across my face, and tears streaming down my cheeks, and saw Lori and Carl just beyond the group, both whom turned to look at us, their faces stunned.

I could hear Rick's breathing get shallow and rapid, and I knew mine was the same, because I felt like my heart was about to explode out of my chest. I had no family left, but Rick, Shane, Lori and Carl, and they were all here, and it felt like I was dreaming.

I let Rick walk forward first, half-crying, half-laughing as Carl bolted towards him, screaming his name, watching my best friend scoop his son up into his arms, hugging him as tightly as possible. Lori didn't move. She grinned, tears rolling down her face, but she didn't move towards him.

I moved though. I ran towards Shane, laughing almost hysterically as I launched myself into his arms, and he caught me, holding me up and squeezing me to his body, as I locked my legs around his waist so he wouldn't drop me. My other best friend in the whole world, the other third of our terrific trio, the third King County musketeer, who I'd thought was lost to me, who I'd given up hope for, I'd found again.

"We heard you on the CB," He whispered into my hair, my face buried in his neck, both of us seeming to be completely overwhelmed with emotion. I could feel my own body shaking against his, the joy of finding him again and the realization that I was actually hugging him being almost too much. "We thought we'd lost you."

"You didn't. I'm here. And God, so are you. It doesn't feel real!" I cried, tears staining his shirt, and we reluctantly let go of each other, Shane putting me back on my feet, though I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight.

I turned around to see Rick, Carl and Lori in a tender embrace, though it looked almost awkward for both Rick and Lori, and it was soon over. Carl didn't seem to want to let go of his dad, until his eyes caught sight of me.

"Aunt T!" The boy seemed conflicted, wanting to stay close to his dead, holding him to make sure he wasn't going to disappear, and wanting to run to his godmother and hug her as tightly as he'd held his dad.

So I made his decision for him. I jogged over to him and picked him up, his hand still holding his dad's and hugged him close. I sniffled, smoothing his dark hair down with one hand, as he sobbed into my shoulder. Rick watched us, before I pulled him in too. I locked eyes with Lori, and grinned at her, wide and toothy and borderline maniacal, but she grinned back. I released my grip of Rick's shirt, though he was still held to me by my upper arm and Carl's hand, and reached out to her. She gripped my hand, both of us crying from happiness, and I knew that it was going to be okay now.

I stood in the middle of a strange camp, holding or being held by two of my favorite men (big and little) in the whole world, and not caring that the world was technically over. None of that even mattered anymore. Not when all I needed, my three best friends and my godson, was right here.

I'd found home again.

* * *

"Disoriented," Rick was describing how it felt to wake up out of his coma into this new, terrifying world to the group as we all huddle up around the low-burning camp fire. I sat close to Rick, bundled in my favorite jacket, Carl in his arms, and Lori sat next to Glenn and T-Dog on the log next to ours. That's how I knew that Rick and Lori's marriage was over. After believing he was dead for two months, and finding that he wasn't, a wife wouldn't have let her husband be two inches away, let alone across a campfire, but Rick didn't seem upset by it, and neither did Carl, so I kept my mouth shut and rolled with it. "I guess that comes close. Disorientated. Fear, confusion, all those things, but...disoriented comes closest."

"Words can be meagre things," The old guy, Dale, commented, and I nodded. "Sometimes they fall short."

"I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else, until I stumbled into T. I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, couldn't believe that she was here instead of halfway round the world, thought I wouldn't wake up, ever." Rick said, and I nuzzled my head into his shoulder, my fingers sifting through Carl's hair to keep me occupied. I didn't want to think about how Rick had been when he had believed me to be a dream. It still upset me that he'd been in that hospital alive and alone for two months and I hadn't known, that I'd thought he was dead and gone when he'd been alive and breathing all along.

"Mom said you died." Carl announced, his voice quiet, but everyone heard him.

"She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it." Rick told his son, while I looked over the fire at Shane, the person who had told me that Rick was dead.

After we had calmed down, after the adrenaline and excitement had ebbed away, I realized that Shane had told us that Rick was dead, and he hadn't been. Shane had gone to the hospital to get him, and came back without him, claiming that Rick had passed away. But he hadn't. Now, when he saw my stare, he looked slightly guilty, before his eyes flickered to Lori, who was pointedly not looking at him.

I knew that something had gone on between them after that look. And while I didn't like it, as Lori was Rick's wife or ex-wife or whatever, I understood. At least on Lori's part. The man whom she had loved for a good fourteen or fifteen years of her life had died. Even if their marriage was not what it used to be, even if they had separated, she had loved him. She was vulnerable and probably looking for some physical comfort from her emotional pain.

Shane…I just didn't understand. Wasn't there some sort of guy code against this sort of thing? Like don't hook up with your best friend's ex? Yet I knew it couldn't have been all Shane, if there really was something going on and I wasn't just making it up in my head to make myself feel better about my less than platonic feelings for Rick. Regardless of whether it had happened or not, I'm sensing that it wasn't happening now. Shane had told us, whether he knew it wasn't true or not, that Rick was dead. We'd cried and mourned him, and he wasn't actually gone at all. Now the dust had settled, _I_ was pissed at him, so I can imagine that Lori's inner anger was double that.

Whatever the status of their relationship now, I wanted to be happy for them, but the fact that I didn't really know what was happening with Lori and Rick made it hard to get on board with Lori and Shane. Rick told Morgan that Lori was his ex-wife and she said that Rick was pretty much her ex-husband, but that wasn't official. They were just separated, not divorced. They could still mend their relationship and get back together.

Internally, I sighed deeply at my own confusion and the dread building in my stomach. I didn't want anyone to get hurt or for there to be any more drama than necessary.

The apocalypse was bad enough without love triangles, or love squares, or whatever, making it even more difficult.

"When things started to get really bad, they told us at the hospital, T and I, that they were gonna Medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta…and it never happened." Lori said, our eyes connecting across the fire.

"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell." Rick commented, the others nodding.

"The hospital fell first," I recalled, Rick looking down at me as I spoke, but I turned my eyes to the fire, staring into the chaos of the flames as I remembered the chaos that had been the early days of the outbreak. "The army tried to contain the infected on the lower levels, tried to help them, but it wasn't any use. So we tried evacuating the healthy, but the hospital was overrun with walkers, so we were forced to take the third step; extermination. We got as many as we could, cleared out the hospital, boarded up the main entrances and exits, but there were just too many still roaming around. A lot of us got bitten, and were put down, some went AWOL, but I managed to hide out in a tank a couple days until the majority of the walkers had passed through."

"Explains why it all looked like a ghost town when you found me."

"Yeah, looks don't deceive. I barely got them out…you know?" Shane divulged, and I saw Lori's hands clenched into fists, but I didn't comment on it. If Rick saw her change in attitude, he didn't say anything either, just brushed it aside and continued the conversation.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. You and T. You both protected my family. I can't begin to express my gratitude." Rick replied, and there was a brief, almost tense silence, as the two men exchanged meaningful glances over the fire.

"There go those words falling short again. Paltry things." Dale commented, and I cracked a smile for him as he glanced over at Rick, Carl and I.

A fire crackled behind us, as a log was kicked onto it, stoking the fire so it burned hotter. I didn't think anything of it. It was a cold night because of the thunderstorm, and the stifling heat of the day. It would probably rain later that night. Yet Shane's eyes practically narrowed into slits, glaring at the small three person family behind me, and I didn't understand what they had done wrong, until I realized.

The small campfires they had dotted around camp couldn't attract too much attention if they were kept low. They get too high and it's suddenly Atlanta all over again. I shivered at the thought, and Rick wrapped his arm round me, pulling me closer into his body, sharing his body heat. I tried not to think at all about the meaning of that, but I did see that Lori noticed the small shift, but couldn't tell what was going on in her head.

"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" Shane made it sound like a suggestion, but it was a clear order from the leader of this group of survivors.

"It's cold, man." Ed replied, sounding like he didn't really care about what Shane thought or said.

I looked over Rick's shoulder to drink in the family of three. Ed was a big man, wider than Merle was, not taller, but looked just as arrogant. His wife was thin, almost too thin, and seemed to be in a constant state of nervousness, something that didn't sit right with me. She never looked at her husband directly, just out the corner of her eye, like she was scared. Their daughter was a pretty, little thing, but just as quiet and nervous as her mother, seeming to take her mother's lead and not making eye contact with her father at all. They didn't seem like a happy family, and I wondered if the two females would be happier sat with us. Probably.

"The cold don't change the rules, does it? Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?" Shane pressed, and I could see he was getting irritated.

Lori reached out her hand and pressed on his arm, probably trying to calm him and stay in his seat. Shane had a bit of a hot temper, always had. He had a short fuse that was attached to dynamite. Half the time he could stop himself before he got out of control, but there were a few instances that Rick and I had to pull him off people before he could do some real damage. That had mostly been when we were kids though.

"I said, it's cold. You should mind your own damn business for once." Ed snapped at Shane, and I arched an eyebrow, pursing my lips as Shane pushed himself up onto his feet, Lori sighing deeply, and walked over to the other small campfire.

"Ed…sure you want to have this conversation, man?" Shane questioned, his tone saying that if Ed really pushed him, there wasn't going to be much of a conversation. I watched Ed size Shane up, deciding that he couldn't take Shane on, and gave up.

"Go on, pull that thing out," Ed ordered his wife, who eyed him out the corner of her eyes again, wondering if she should really move or not. "Go on!"

She jumped out her seat, like a skittish baby animal, and walked round the fire and pulled the burning log out, as we all watched. I was slightly disgusted at how a man like Ed treated his wife, like she was a servant rather than the woman he was lucky to be married to. Shane mumbled something under his breath before stomping out the fire, before he crouched down to be eye level with both Ed's wife and daughter.

"Hey, Carol, Sophia, how are y'all this evening?" He questioned, and I smiled. Shane had a thing for damsels in distress. He could never resist helping a female in need; child, teenager, young woman or old. Especially if she looked like she couldn't help herself. I remember one of my visits when I was on leave, and Shane came back to his apartment after a long shift, and broke down when they'd found a little girl dead after a disturbance call tipped them off to a domestic abuse situation.

"Fine. We're just fine," Carol replied, daring a glance at her husband before continuing. "I'm sorry about the fire."

"No, no, no, no apology needed," Shane insisted, smiling at the two females, but not at Ed. Ed seemed like an asshole, even more unlikeable than Merle had been. "Y'all have a good night, okay?"

"Okay." Carol nodded, as Shane rose to his feet and walked away.

"I appreciate the cooperation." He remarked, and I tried not to smirk, turning back to watch the fire and comb my fingers through Carl's hair.

Shane retook his seat, but closer to Lori, who seemed relieved that he had managed to remain calm and collected. If Rick noticed them almost gravitating towards each other, despite her anger towards him, he didn't say anything. So neither did I, even though I really wanted to understand what was happening. It definitely looked like Shane and Lori had found solace in each other in these dark times.

"Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon?" Dale questioned, looking at those who had ventured into the city and returned without him. "He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

"I'll tell him," T-Dog volunteered, and I thought he was brave, especially if Daryl was anything like his eccentric brother. "I dropped the key. It's on me."

"I cuffed him. That makes it mine." Rick stated.

"Guys, it's not a competition," Glenn stopped them from arguing, and I was grateful. If we had to listen to an 'it's my fault' 'no it's my fault' argument, I'd end up throat punching people. "I don't mean to bring race into this but it might sound better coming from a white guy."

"I did what I did. Hell, if I'm gonna hide from him." T-Dog said, looking forlorn and guilty.

"Merle Dixon put himself in those cuffs, not Rick, not you. You made a mistake dropping the key, but he wouldn't have been in that situation if he hadn't been a racist crack head," I explained, trying to stop the two grown men from having a pity party. "All our actions have consequences. Merle's just blew up in his face."

"Thea's right. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us all killed," Andrea backed me up, and I smiled gratefully at her. "Rick did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."

"And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale questioned, disbelief coloring his tone. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you? A word to the wise, we're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"I was scared and I ran. I'm not ashamed of it." T-Dog muttered.

"We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asked.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through it- not that chain, not that padlock. My point, Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us." T-Dog revealed, before climbing to his feet and walking away to his tent.

"Well, fu-fishsticks," I barely managed to stop myself cursing in front of Carl, who just shot me a knowing look, like he knew I was going to swear and what I was going to say. I straightened up, lifting my head off Rick's shoulder and stretched my arms above my head. "I suppose that rather unsettling revelation brings this night to a close. I'm going to bed, unless someone wants me to take watch."

"No, you need to sleep. We've got a big group now, we're as safe as we can be, and you don't need to keep yourself awake all night, listening out for the enemy. Not anymore," Rick insisted, his soft blue eyes holding mine, stubbornly not breaking our gaze before I did. "Go get some sleep."

"Sir, yes, sir," I mock saluted him, before pressing my lips to his cheek, and then Carl's. "Night, kiddo."

"Night, Aunt T. Love you."

"Love you too, buddy. Make sure to wake me up in the morning, okay?" When Carl nodded, I grinned, and climbed to my feet, heading toward my tent.

After my happy reunion with my chosen family, I'd been happily reunited with my Jeep, and all its contents. Lori hadn't used half the things I had packed for her, like my camping equipment or the pistol I had put in the glove box for her. All my weapons hidden in the trunk were still there too and the duffel bag of clean clothes I'd forgotten to take out before I sent them to Atlanta. So I picked a spot, away from the tree line, but near to Lori and Carl's tent, which so happened to be next to Shane's tent, and set my own up.

I ducked into my tent, zipping it up behind me, tugging off my jacket and dropping it down onto the floor. Moving over to my duffel bag, I rummaged through it until I found the sleep shirt and the red checkered pair of shorts I had packed. I quickly stripped off my dirty clothes, kicking them to one side of the tent, and pulled the clean pajamas on, diving almost immediately under my thick, army issue sleeping bag to get out of the cold air. I'd made a makeshift mattress out a few thick blankets I always kept in the Jeep, so sleeping on the tent floor was more comfortable. Or as comfortable as it was going to be.

It took an hour, but I had almost drifted off to sleep when I realized I still needed to switch off the electric lamp. I pushed myself upright, and bit back a curse word or two when I saw that I had placed the damn lamp as far away from me as possible. I groaned, not wanting to get back up after I had just gotten comfortable, but knowing Shane would probably pitch a fit if I left it on.

I had just started trying to reach the lamp from where I was, when the door to my tent unzipped and I grabbed my Glock from beside my pillow, flicking the safety off, just in case. I didn't hear any growling or moaning or snarling, but walkers who survived getting their throats ripped out, along with their vocal chords, couldn't make a sound.

I breathed a sigh of relief when it was Rick; still very much human, and arching a brow at the gun pointed at him.

"Don't give me that look. You can't be too careful. For all I knew, you could have been a walker, or a murderer, or a rapist!"

"Thea, we are safe here. These are good people, I think," Rick mused, as he came into the tent and sat down beside me. "So I don't think you'll be at risk of rapists or murderers."

"Yeah, okay, fine. So what brings you into my humble home, Helicopter Boy?" I questioned, smiling at him. He grinned and shook his head at the new nickname given to him by Morales.

"I was hoping I could be your roommate, Eagle Eye," Rick said, causing me to stare at him, scrutinizing him to find out the reason he wanted to stay _here_, instead of with Lori and Carl. I mean, did he suspect the same thing I did? That Lori and Shane had become a thing to cope with his loss, or this new world, or whatever. If he did, Rick didn't give anything away. "It's only been an hour, but it feels weird, you not being _right _there, you know?"

I knew what he meant, I had felt the same when I went to bed and he wasn't there at my side, but I still tried to find something_, anything_ that told me that he would rather be somewhere else. I couldn't tell, but eventually just nodded, shifting over so there was room for him under the sleeping bag. It was only then that I noticed that he'd lost the pressed pants of his uniform and the checked shirt that Lori had kept of his. He was just wearing a plain white tee shirt, his boxers and his shoes.

"You came here in just that? You halfway through a show out there, Full Monty?" I questioned, a grin on my face as he rolled his eyes and shuffled under the blanket, pushing his shoes off with his feet before he climbed in, reaching towards the lamp to dim the lights for us.

"Shut up, Freckles, and go to sleep." Rick replied, shifting around until he got comfortable on his back, tugging on my arm until I laid back down and cuddled up to him. It was much better sleeping on him, than sleeping alone, I thought, as I rested my head on his chest, our bodies practically knitted seamlessly together.

"You haven't called me Freckles since we were seventeen." I muttered, smiling like an idiot.

It always used to be _his_ nickname for me, because of all the light freckles across the bridge of my nose and cheekbones. They weren't even that noticeable unless you were really close to me, but Rick insisted on calling me it. He even used to tell Shane off when he used it. It was just for him. So Shane was the first person to shorten my name from Thea to T, and he used to tell Rick off for using _his_ nickname for me, but then everybody started using it so he gave up. Rick was Dimples, and Shane was Curly, all for obvious reasons. Freckles remained just Rick's though. Until Lori. It wasn't that she was jealous or anything. He just stopped getting so close to me to notice them.

"I haven't been this close to you since we were seventeen. You got a lot more freckles now." Rick commented, closing his eyes and resting his head atop mine.

"No shit…really? You mean after nineteen years, I got more freckles? No way!" I teased him, piling on the sarcasm, and he squeezed my middle, making me laugh silently.

"Shut up, Freckles, and go to sleep." Rick repeated, his lips pressing into my hair, so I rolled my eyes, but ended up yawning out of exhaustion.

"Good idea, Dimples."

Closing my eyes and letting the darkness creep in, I was almost asleep when I heard Rick speak again, his voice soft as he attempted to keep the volume down.

"T?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I did the wrong thing with Dixon?"

I knew I had already given him an answer when we were all sat around the campfire, my opinion on it was now well known among the group, but, I guess Rick probably just needed a little support and reassurance. Knowing that a man had been left behind partly because of his actions must have been playing on his mind.

"I think you did what you did to protect me, protect those people, and that's always the right thing. Merle would have blown the whole plan with his crazy," I murmured, sleepily rubbing his chest with my hand. Tomorrow morning, when I was wide awake and overanalyzing everything, I would probably realize how domestic this all was. Confiding in each other in bed, comforting each other, sleeping tangled up in each other. Thankfully, it wasn't tomorrow, and my mind seemed to push the thought into a corner, forgotten until I had a clear mind. "We just need to sleep on it, and decide what we're doing tomorrow. Everything can wait until tomorrow morning."

I felt him nod, his fingers digging in slightly into my side, and I patted his chest in reply.

"Night, Freckles."

"Night, Dimples."

I succumbed to the heaviness of my eyes lids, falling asleep, my dreams decidedly nicer as images of summers spent camping under the stars, Rick, Shane and I sleeping side by side and making up our own constellations when we forgot the ones that already existed, flooded in my mind.

Needless to say, but I slept well that night, even despite the storm raging on outside.

* * *

Morning came much quicker than I wanted it to. I was dragged, kicking and screaming, back to the land of the conscious when I heard the zipper to the tent opening. I gripped my gun, hiding it underneath the blanket, until a small head popped into view.

"Carl! Morning, squirt," I whispered, sighing in relief, letting the gun remain hidden under the blanket, the safety back on. I sat up, untangling myself from Rick, lowering his arm onto the blankets gently, careful not to wake him. "How'd you sleep?"

"Okay, I guess. Why is dad sleeping in here?" Carl whispered back, and I shrugged, not really knowing what to say to him. I didn't really know why Rick had come to _my_ tent out of all tents last night either, so I couldn't answer him anyway.

"He was cold? Give me five minutes to change out of my jammies, and we can help with breakfast, okay?" Carl nodded, seeming to accept my answer and my abrupt subject change, before ducking back out of the tent.

I quietly got up, discarding my pajamas next to my duffel, and grabbed a fresh set of clothes. I pulled on a clean set of underwear (thanking God that Rick was asleep as I did so), a pair of cargo combat pants, a khaki colored short-sleeved tee, and my lucky brown boots. These boots were just lucky, okay? Not only did good things happen when I was wearing them, I looked amazing in them. I teamed these up with a short khaki skater dress once, and got a two syllable 'da-amn' in those boots. So they were lucky.

After strapping my holsters around my thighs, I holstered my two guns, having replaced the one I'd given to Glenn with another Glock of the same make as my remaining one. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun, hoping that I'd have a chance to wash it at some point today. There was a giant lake at the bottom of the quarry where the women did the washing, or so Andrea told me, and I couldn't wait to be clean again. That shower at the police station had already worn off what with our city excursion yesterday. Once I was ready, I started to head out, until I realized that it was daylight and Rick had turned up to my tent last night in just a shirt and his boxers.

I ducked out the tent, walking until I found a familiar face, which just happened to be Ed's wife, Carol.

"Hey…Carol, isn't it?" I questioned, and she smiled and nodded at me, as she ironed, using an old fashioned metal flat iron and a rickety ironing board. "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find some clean clothes for Rick, would you? He lost his duffel somewhere between the 85 and Atlanta."

"I already got some for him. I washed up his uniform for him, so I figured he'd need something while he waits for it to dry." Carol said, nodding to a white shirt, pair of blue jeans and a pair of sneakers on a pile next to her.

"You didn't need to do that, but it was very kind of you. Not many people are like that anymore. Thank you." I thanked her, surprised that she had washed Rick's clothes, but no less grateful. I had planned on washing them along with mine after I'd washed up at the lake, but I guess I didn't need to now.

"It's no problem. Just nice to have something to do." Carol replied, shrugging her shoulders, and I realized that we had yet to make eye contact. Subtly, I scoped the area for her husband, finding him off to one side watching his wife, just sitting in the same folding chair he'd been in last night. Everybody was doing something, but not him.

"Well, we appreciate it. Listen, I'm gonna drop these to Sheriff Snores-a-Lot, and I'll come back and help with the laundry or the ironing or whatever you need, okay?"

Without waiting for an answer, I grabbed the clean clothes for Rick and headed back to my tent. I hadn't zipped it back up, so I was able to stealthily creep back in, leave the clothes somewhere he'd see them, and sneak back out again without waking him up.

When I got back to Carol, she handed me a basket of wet laundry and sent me over to Lori, who was already hanging up some of Carl's clothes on a makeshift washing line, Andrea and Amy. They smiled at me as I approached and then gave me my own line where I started hanging up some more kid sized clothes, probably Carol's little girl's, to dry.

"Have a good night?" Lori questioned, as we worked.

"Uh yeah, got some sleep for a change. It was nice knowing that there were a lot of good people around that would have my back, makes it easier to let my guard down enough to just fall asleep." I answered, pegging a small, colorful t-shirt to the line.

"Must've been rough, spending all that time alone." Andrea commented, and I nodded.

"It was until Morgan and Duane came along. They'd had a rough time of it too, and we kinda just stayed stuck together…Morgan's wife had been bitten, and he couldn't put her down and he couldn't move on either, and I…I was stuck too," I confessed, looking over at the other three women as I confided in them. I barely knew Amy, or Andrea for that matter, but it was about building relationships with the few good people left, and I knew Lori could understand. She always did. "I guess I was just waiting on a sign that I could find something from my old life to push me forward again."

"And you found Rick." Lori stated rather than asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah. And then we found you guys. Putting aside the fact that we almost died quite a few times…yesterday was a good day." I grinned, as I pegged a pair of small cutoff jeans to the line next to a pair of Carl's. I reached in to the basket, only to find that I had finished hanging the load that Carol had given me.

"Morning, Officer." Lori greeted, and I turned to see Rick approaching in his borrowed clothes.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Nice sleep?" I teased, as I started to help Lori hang Carl's clothes. I glanced at Andrea and Amy, and nearly threw one of Carl's shirts at them when I saw them both give me knowing looks. What the hell could they know anyway? Barely knew either of them.

"Yeah. Better than in a long time." Rick smiled, and I grinned at him.

"Well, I didn't want to wake you. Figured you could use it. Build your strength back up," Rick nodded, but there was something in his expression that had me pausing for a moment to work out which of his looks this was. I sighed when I got it. "Oh God, Lori, he's doing it."

"I know, I can see it." Lori replied, continuing to peg the laundry.

"See what?" Amy questioned.

"That's his 'I've been thinking' face, and it never ends well for me," I groaned, ignoring Rick's mixed expression as Amy and Andrea laughed. It was somewhere between amused and offended. I placed my hands on my hips, and tilted my head back slightly. "Out with it. 'Hey, T, I've been thinking…'"

Rick rolled his eyes at my poor imitation of his voice. I never said I was a good Rick impersonator.

"Hey, T, I've been thinking, about the man we left behind." I stared at him, before I shook my head, knowing where he was going with that line of thought. Lori sensed it too, and she scoffed at him, as I started to build my argument against his thought.

"You are not serious."

Just before Rick could answer, Shane pulled up in his Jeep.

"Water's here, y'all. Just a reminder to boil before use." Shane announced, hopping out of the car, nodding in our direction before moving to the bed of his Jeep to help Andrea and the others unload the water.

Rick turned back to face us, and I frowned at him.

"You asking or telling?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest, as Lori moved to my side, hands perched on her hips, an equally unhappy expression on her face. She and Rick may be separated or whatever, but he was the father of her son, and they needed him as much as I did. Rick looked between us, and knew that there was only one right answer.

"Asking."

"I think it's crazy. I think it is the stupidest way to break your-" Lori started to tear him a new one, and I was going to add in my own two cents, when a woman's scream pierced through the air and we all heard Carl call out.

"Carl?" Lori called.

The kids started to call out to us all, and we all bolted to the source, and Dale tossed us a couple of weapons; Rick got a crowbar, and I was thrown a bat. We hurried to the kids, just as they poured out of the woods with Jacqui on their tails. Carl, Sophia and Morales' two kids ran towards us and into their mothers' arms, and Jacqui pointed us into the direction of the walker.

We ran into the woods, Shane on point and the rest of us following. I did notice that our group consisted of mostly the men, but I shook off that thought, and focused on my footsteps. I didn't want to trip when there was a serious situation to be dealt with.

We came into a small clearing in the trees, and there it was. A fallen doe was being feasted on by a walker. I grimaced at the mess of it, and the smell…the smell was bad. Andrea and Amy came up behind us, saw the scene and gasped in fear or disgust, but stayed back and let us deal with it.

The walker must have finally sensed us, as it climbed to its unsteady feet, seeming to lock eyes with Rick, before it began its approach. Rick knocked it back, before Shane clocked it with the butt of his shotgun, and Glenn forced it to the ground with a pipe wrench. We all just wailed on it, until Dale chopped of its head with his axe.

I breathed heavily, not understanding why I was breathless, before dropping the bat to the ground. It was just a head now. Even if it was still technically undead, as only a shot to the brain can kill it, it couldn't hurt anyone, unless they were fool enough to pick it up and literally put their arm or hand in its mouth.

"It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain." Dale informed us, and Rick and I exchanged a worried glance. This was bad.

"Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what." Jim commented, and though his words were completely negative, they weren't untrue. There wouldn't be anyone left in the city, 'cept Merle, and there wouldn't be any wildlife. The walkers would start venturing out of the city to find new food sources.

A branch snapped behind us, and I pulled out my Glock, attaching the silencer. The bat was okay, but I preferred a gun in my hands. We all looked to the trees as we waited for something to reveal itself, listening to the rustling, and the tension building.

A man with a crossbow appeared, a dozen dead squirrels hanging from a rope across his shoulder, and the other guys lowered their weapons, so I reluctantly lowered mine, despite having no clue who he was. If Shane didn't deem him a threat, and knew him, then that was good enough for me.

"That's Daryl." Glenn whispered to me, and I looked at him with wide eyes. That was the other Dixon? He didn't look like Merle. He was actually handsome, in that rough, outdoorsy way, and he was smaller, leaner, but still muscled.

"Son of a bitch…that's my deer!" Daryl cursed, walking towards the fallen game with a look of anger and disgust. "Look at it, all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!"

With each adjective, Dixon viciously kicked the headless walker's body, and I arched a brow at Glenn, who shrugged as if to say 'He's a Dixon. You saw Merle', and I nodded at him.

"Calm down, son. That's not helping." Dale voiced, and I winced. If Daryl was anything like Merle, he would not take kindly to Dale's words.

"What do you know about it, old man?" Dixon asked, stepping up towards Dale, Shane barring his way with the butt of his gun. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond? I've been tracking this deer for miles. Was gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison."

Daryl pulled his crossbow bolts from the deer's bloodied carcass, before he pulled out his knife and continued his tirade.

"Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" He questioned, looking up at us, but Shane shook his head.

"I would not risk that."

"That's a damn shame. Well, I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That'll have to do." Daryl stated, his anger gone almost as quickly as it came.

The walker head seemed to stir back into life, causing Amy to feel sick. Andrea wrapped an arm around her little sister's shoulder and led her away, while Dixon scolded us.

"Come on, people. What the hell?" He loaded his crossbow, and shot the walker through the eye, killing it instantly. Dixon started to walk past us, and Rick and I locked gazes. It was time to deal with yesterday's problems. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?"

We followed Daryl out of the woods, back to camp, wincing when he called out to his brother.

"Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" Daryl called out, as he put his stuff down by his and his brother's tent, and started to walk off to hunt his brother down.

"Daryl, just slow up a bit, I need to talk to you." Shane said, putting his shotgun away in the back of his Jeep, his words getting the other Dixon to pause, obviously sensing something in his tone. Rick and I followed Shane as he approached Daryl, wanting to help back him up if Dixon lost it, or to help him explain the situation if he didn't.

"About what?"

"About Merle. There was a…There was a problem in Atlanta." Shane informed him, and Daryl looked around, before casting his eyes down.

"He dead?" He was gripping the rope of squirrels in his hand, and if I had known him better, I would say that was the only way to tell that he was really worried about his brother, because his face was blank, as though he was preparing himself for the bad news already.

"We're not sure." Shane answered honestly, and I knew that maybe he should have given more details, because the uncertainty was what pissed Daryl off.

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl's voice was getting louder, probably because he was angry, maybe because they had an audience and he was uncomfortable with that. He seemed like the type of person to feel things in solitude. We probably should have taken him aside and told him, instead of in front of the crowded RV.

"No easy way to say this, so, I'll just say it." Rick stepped in, and Daryl eyed him up, and then me, as I followed Rick. If Daryl Dixon had a temper like Merle's, then I was going to be on Rick's six until I was sure that he wouldn't get his ass handed to him again.

"Who are you?" Daryl questioned, gesturing to both of us.

"I'm Rick Grimes, she's Thea Winters."

"Rick Grimes, Thea Winters," He put a mocking emphasis on our names, and I rolled my eyes. "You got something you want to tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so, I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked to a piece of metal. He's still there." Rick informed him, being straightforward and honest, something that he could do with being less of. One day, his morality and honesty was going to get him killed.

"Hold on," Daryl stepped away from Rick a little bit, pacing slightly as he looked between Rick, Shane and I. "Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there?"

I cast my eyes down to the floor, his anger making me feel guilty. Merle Dixon was an asshole, he did drugs, and he was racist and sexist and probably homophobic too, given his comment about 'rug munchers', but he seemed to be all Daryl Dixon had. Merle almost deserved to be left on that roof, but I knew that Daryl didn't deserve to lose his brother. I could see that already.

"Yeah."

Rick's one worded answer seemed to piss Daryl off even more, pushing him over the edge. He tossed his rope of dead squirrels at Rick, both of us narrowly dodging the flying animal carcasses, before he tried to rush him. Except, Shane saw it happening, and tackled him, pushing him to the floor.

"Watch the knife." T-Dog warned, abandoning the logs he had gathered for the night's campfires.

Daryl got to his feet, and swiped the knife at Rick, missing as Rick ducked backwards, but it was distraction enough for Shane to grab his arm, and for me to take out his legs from under him, forcing him to his knees. Rick knocked the knife of his hand, and Shane moved his arms so that Daryl was in a headlock he had no hope of escaping, but still tried to.

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl warned, still struggling to free himself from Shane's choke hold.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Shane said, gripping a little tighter to compensate for Daryl's wriggling.

"Choke holding's illegal." Daryl spat, and I laughed.

"Yeah, well, file a complaint." I responded, as Rick and I crouched down in front of him, ready to have a calm, civilized conversation with him, but he was still trying to break free from Shane, who wasn't going to let him go until we were all certain that he wasn't going to be a threat to anyone in his anger.

"Come on, man, we'll keep this up all day." Shane stated, and I nodded, my eyes locking with the blue of Daryl's. His were bright with anger, and worry, and sadness, but I knew he wouldn't want me to see that, so I looked down at my folded hands instead.

"Except when his arms get tired, _I'm_ gonna have to take over and it's not going to be as fun as it sounds." I added, smirking at Daryl's scowl. The Dixon's were easy to rile up. They had short fuses attached to large drums filled with gunpowder surrounded by dynamite.

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?" Rick questioned, playing the patient diplomat, ever the peacekeeper.

When Daryl refused to answer, I tilted my head and caught the angry hunter's eyes.

"Do you think we can manage that?" I repeated, and seeing that he had stopped struggling, Rick nodded to Shane, and the other sheriff's deputy dropped, before taking a couple steps back. I stayed where I was, though I straightened up, not really feeling all that threatened by the hunter. He hadn't attacked me during the scuffle so I was confident that he was one of those 'won't hit women, 'cause they're fragile, vulnerable creatures' types of men.

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others." Rick explained, and was about to continue when T-Dog cut in first.

"It's not Rick's fault. I had the key. I dropped it."

"You couldn't pick it up?" Daryl grunted from his place on the ground. He seemed to have flipped the off button on his anger again, and was mostly calm again.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain." T-Dog said bluntly, and Daryl shook his head.

He pushed himself back up onto his legs, throwing a bit of dirt away from him, and glaring at T-Dog.

"If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."

"Maybe this will. Look, I chained the door to the roof, so the geeks couldn't get at him, with a padlock." T-Dog revealed to him, and Rick stepped forward again, earning Daryl's attention.

"It's gotta count for something."

I watched as Dixon seemed to succumb to a moment of real emotion, tears springing up into his eyes, and he furiously wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is so's I can go get him." Daryl demanded, his voice cracking slightly towards the end.

He was just a man looking for his brother. Like Rick had been a man looking for his wife and son. I knew that was the reason that Rick was eager to go back into that city, despite having found his family again against all odds. He knew what it felt like to lose your family and have to search to find them.

"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" I scowled at Rick, my arms folded across my chest.

Rick looked at me, and I shook my head, angry that he was putting his life on the line again, even if he had good reasons to do it, breaking our eye contact, glaring at the dirt underneath my feet.

"I'm going back."

I shook my head at him again, my jaw clenched along with my fists, before I walked away, ignoring him when he called my name.

This was stupid. So stupid. Idiot was going to get himself killed and me along with him. I was almost to my tent when he finally caught up to me. He didn't grab me, he knew that would be stupid and the complete opposite of what I want, but just followed me until I stopped, turned and slapped him.

He blinked at me rapidly, his hand coming up to cradle his smarting cheek, but I didn't feel that guilty about it. He was going to get himself killed and he was going to leave me heartbroken again. All for a man who wouldn't do the same thing if the roles were reversed.

"I risked my life, Rick, _my _life to get you to Atlanta, and out of it, to find your family, and now you're turning your back and walking back into that death trap? What the fuck are you thinking?" I hissed, not caring that my palm had left an angry red blotch on his cheek, or that I had hurt him at all. "We should stay here. With them. Protecting _them. They_ should be our priority, not some jumped up, piece of shit who attacked members of his own group."

I couldn't believe he was doing this; that he was walking away from the good in his life and all of it for Merle Dixon? That coma must've messed with his brain if he thought that Merle Dixon, who punched him after knowing him for all of five seconds and beat a man to the ground because of the color of his skin, was worth the risk we would be taking.

"I have to go. Leaving him there…it's not right, T. It's not human." Rick insisted, and I breathed in deeply, trying to calm myself down, because while he was right, he was still stupid.

"I know it isn't. Just because I know that you're right, that what you're doing is the right thing, the decent thing, and just because I understand your reasons, respect them even, doesn't mean I like them. It definitely doesn't mean that it doesn't piss me off or that I don't think it's completely stupid that you want us to go back into that city for some asshole like Merle Dixon," I ranted, until I caught a look in his eyes. It was different to his 'I've been thinking' face and a lot different to his 'I'm in agony', 'I'm starving and I want a cold beer' and 'go away, the Super Bowl is on' faces. This was his 'I'm sorry but…' face. "What? What are you not saying?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't want you to come with us."

I stared hard at him for what felt like a life time as I waited for him to continue, to say 'I'm just kidding, Freckles', and laugh at my dumbstruck face. Except, he didn't. My stomach seemed to plummet into my feet, while my heart skyrocketed into my mouth. He was one hundred per cent sure about this. I could see it in his eyes. He did _not_ want me to have his back when he went back into that godforsaken city.

He was leaving me behind.

"What?" I questioned, feeling hurt. Did he think I was incapable? Did I make myself out to seem that way? I was the most qualified for the job! I had so many S and R's under my belt that I lost count over the 18 years of service. "You want to leave me here while you go and play the hero? I never signed up for role of the worried wife, Rick Grimes. Snarky sidekick has always had my name written all over it."

"I need to keep you safe, and you need to keep the rest of the group, including Carl, Lori and Shane, safe while I'm gone. I'm not leaving you behind, I'm asking you to stay. Can you do that? For me? Please? Promise me?" Rick beseeched, and I let out a sigh of exasperation, as I struggled to find a way to say no to that. He wanted to protect me, while I protected the group, and I knew that he was just worried because of the close calls we had yesterday, but…I wanted to protect him too.

"Sitting on the sidelines isn't my style. You know that," Rick opened his mouth to argue with me, but I held up a finger and silenced him. "But I promise that I'll keep them safe. I'll stay, but you have to come back. I don't care if it means you have to leave both the Dixons behind, you find a way back to m-to us. We already lost you once, I'm not ready to live through that again. It hurt, Rick, more than you'll ever know and I won't let you make me feel that way again. So go, save the racist crack head, but come back. Or I'll have to come get you."

"Don't doubt that you would," Rick replied, and I felt tears spring into my eyes, terrified that I might lose the man I was so gone for again, so I closed the distance between us, and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tight so he wouldn't see me cry. Rick curled his arms around my waist, holding me to him, as I tried to push back against my emotions. "It's going to be okay, you know? I'll come back."

"You'd better suit up then, Officer Friendly. Can't go storming the city dressed like that," I said, releasing him and taking a couple shaky steps backwards, trying to distance myself from him again. "I'll go get your uniform from Carol."

I walked away to find the housewife, catching her outside the RV with a couple of the other women, including Lori, who had watched me as I approached.

"Hey, Carol, could you take Rick his uniform? He needs to get ready."

Carol nodded, heading over to her washing to grab Rick's stuff, before heading off to my tent with it. Lori stared at me, and I knew we were both feeling that same anger and disappointment at war with our own morals and ideals.

"Couldn't convince him, huh?" Lori questioned, and I shook my head.

"I tried. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. We know what he's like. He's a good man with a heart of gold and a stubborn streak that'll give anybody grey hairs but, we've still got a little time to change his mind," I nodded at the mother of one in agreement, but I knew that even more time wouldn't be enough to convince him. He had decided and he was determined to follow through with his plan. Not even puppy dog eyes from Carl would convince him to stay. "Come on, let's go sit down with Carl, get them some stuff ready, just in case."

I followed staying silent, trying to figure out why Rick was so determined to save a man like Merle Dixon. No, there had to be something else. Something more to it. I sat down on the log next to Lori, and Carl came over and sat on my lap, while his mother busied herself with something or another. I curled my arms around him, and pressed my lips into his hair.

"Dad's going back into the city, isn't he?" Carl asked, his voice quiet.

"Yeah, squirt, he is. He's gonna help Daryl get his brother off the roof, and they'll come right back." I replied, squeezing him slightly, trying to comfort him even if I knew that his dad would be the only one who could at this moment.

"What if he doesn't?"

"Hush now. Your dad survived a gun shot and came out of a three month long coma, and the first thing he did was put on his uniform, arm himself and started to search for you and your mom. There is nothing that could keep him from you, walkers be damned," I convinced, though I wasn't sure who I was tryna convince. Carl or me. "You ain't got a thing to worry about. Rick Grimes is the toughest man I know, 'sides Shane, and he'll always come back, okay?"

Carl nodded, and I just held him, while Lori and Andrea packed a few things for the two men. Shane, I knew, had waited near my tent for Rick to come out after changing so he could change his mind. I watched them arguing, craning my neck to do so, but I still couldn't hear what was being said. That was until Rick walked away from his male best friend, but Shane wasn't going to drop it.

"Could you just tell me why you'd risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?" Shane requested, finally within hearing distance.

Daryl, who had been sharpening his bolts and hunting knives, stood up then and glared at Shane, pointing his crossbow bolts at him, almost threateningly, but Shane shrugged it off.

"Hey. Choose your words more carefully." Daryl warned him, but Shane just glanced at him, brushing off the warning and continuing.

"No, I did. Douche bag's what I meant. Merle Dixon…guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst." Shane sneered, and I nodded, though neither man was looking at me to see.

Merle Dixon did seem like the type that if you were on fire, would taunt you with the last bucket of water on earth before drinking it in front of you, watching with sick glee while you burned. Some men were just like that. They didn't have evil intentions or dastardly master plans of world domination, they just wanted to laugh while the world burned and take what was left for themselves. They were dangerous, but only in the sense that they were unpredictable, like Merle Dixon.

"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me. I can't let a man die of thirst, me," Rick stated, and Shane shook his head, opening his mouth to argue, but Rick's next words cut him off. "Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being."

"So, you and Daryl, that's your big plan?" Lori questioned, scoffing in disbelief. It was stupid, but Glenn said he had ventured into the city numerous times alone. Two men can't be worse off than one alone, could they?

Rick glanced at Lori, Carl and I, propping his hands on his hips before he turned to give Glenn a beseeching stare.

"Oh, come on!" Glenn whined, obviously not wanting to go back to the city after their terrible last venture, but knowing he'd end up going anyway.

"You know the way. You've been there before, in and out, no problem. You said so yourself. It's not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know Thea would too." Rick said, and I glared at the back of his head, ushering Carl off my lap as I stood up, taking a few steps forward to face Glenn directly.

"Not that he had a right to drag me into his guilt trip, but he's right. Since he doesn't want me there, there's no one, except a select few, that I would trust more to get him in and back out of that city in one piece." I added, and Glenn seemed to stand taller at my words, almost proud, I suppose, that he had earned my trust so quickly. How could he have not earned it? He had saved our lives whilst risking his own for us. Rick and I owed Glenn an awful lot.

"That's just great. Now you're gonna risk three men, huh?" Shane snapped, and I knew that he was only thinking of the camp. The more people that went, the more vulnerable the camp would be.

"Four." T-Dog corrected, and I figured that he wanted to go to lessen his guilt and make right his wrong, even if it was more Merle's fault anyway.

"My day just gets better and better, don't it?" Daryl huffed, and I rolled my eyes. The Dixons were alike, but I think it had more to do with Merle's influence on his younger brother than anything, or maybe their father's influence on them both. Daryl just seemed ignorant rather than racist, possibly because of whatever upbringing he had. Merle probably influenced him more than he realized.

"You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?" T-Dog retorted.

"Why you?" Daryl questioned, cleaning his bolts with an old rag.

"You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."

"That's four." Dale surmised, and I sighed, rubbing my fingers on my temples, feeling the stress start to build up.

Four men down in a camp full of civilians who couldn't protect themselves. There had to be at least thirty people in camp, including the four kids. That's twenty six able bodied people, fourteen men and twelve women, and only Rick, Shane, Daryl, Dale and I had weapons training, in varying degrees of skill. With Rick and Daryl going, that left me, Shane and Dale with the only firepower in camp. T-Dog and Glenn would take a couple of the blunt instruments to protect themselves, which took away from our dwindling supply of men and weapons. We would be vulnerable, so there had to be a better reason for Rick going. I just had to think of what it was.

"It's not just four. You're putting every single one of us at risk – just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that walker – it was here. It was in camp! They're moving out of the city, they come back, we need every able body we've got. We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect camp." Shane insisted, and while I agreed with him, there was strength in numbers, I worked out what Rick was also heading to the city for.

"The bag of guns? That's your play?" I questioned, and Rick pointed at me, still looking at Shane.

"Right…the guns." Glenn uttered, coming to the same conclusion I did.

"Wait, what guns?" Shane questioned, looking between the three of us.

"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before we left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when Thea and I got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up." Rick informed him, and I could see that Shane was now torn between our need for those weapons and our need for our guys to stay put to protect the camp.

"Ammo?"

"Seven hundred rounds, assorted." I answered, tapping my fingers over my mouth nervously. Going after those guns was going to be dangerous. They were in the middle of a walker infested street, the same one we got swarmed on. It would be risky, and someone was going to have to take that suicide run, and I saw little chance for success.

"You went through hell to find us, to get Thea somewhere safe. You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?" Lori questioned incredulously, causing Rick to glance at the two of us, seeing the same disappointment and hurt, because though I understood the reasons he had given, I didn't think they were enough. Not to risk his life so soon after he'd just returned to it.

"Dad, I don't want you to go." Carl added, and I turned my head to give the boy a shaky smile.

"To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives even with guns thrown in!"

"She's right. There's something more to this than Merle Dixon and guns. You wouldn't risk your life, not after finding your family again, not for a guy like him. I don't care how noble or kind or moral you are, I don't believe you'd leave now just for him and a bag of guns. I've got guns. I've got an M4 with a grenade launcher, I've got a Mossberg 12 gauge shotgun, and I've got two Glock 26's, with two hundred rounds for each weapon. Hell, I've got C4, smoke grenades and flashbangs if you want them," I stated, not moving back as he stepped closer to me, with those blue eyes begging me to understand. "Explain it. What's the real reason? Because I still don't get it. Make me understand, Rick. Make us understand."

"I owe a debt to Morgan and Duane. They protected you, and helped you clean me up and teach me how to live in this new world. It's because of them, we made it here at all, T. You know that. And they said they'd follow us to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap if we don't warn them."

"The walkie," I breathed, dropping my head in shame. I couldn't believe that I'd forgotten about the walkie-talkie and Morgan and Duane. "You need the walkie to contact Morgan and tell him Atlanta is a no go."

"What's stopping you?" Lori asked, rising to her feet next to Carl, and Rick tore his eyes off me to speak directly to her.

"The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped. Morgan's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer." Rick explained, Lori nodding as she realized the problem like I did.

"Is it our walkies?" Shane questioned, and Rick nodded.

"Yeah."

"So use the CB. What's wrong with that?" Andrea asked, finally getting into the conversation. Most of the group was standing around, listening to the argument of whether they should go or not, but thus far, no one else had contributed anything.

"CB's fine. It's the walkies that suck to crap – date back to the seventies, don't match any other bandwidth, not even the scanners in our cars." Shane explained, but if she replied, I didn't hear her, because Rick was trying to sway me with those annoyingly beautiful blue eyes of his.

"We need that bag, Freckles."

I squeezed my eyes closed and shifted forward, resting my forehead on his chest, feeling his hands running up and down my arms, trying to comfort me, I think. While I couldn't make myself feel good about his blatant disregard for his own safety and his good intentions, I still knew that we couldn't let Morgan and Duane walk into Atlanta. They had been so good to me, when I was alone and heartbroken, just like I'd tried to be to them, when they were mourning their own loss. I knew Rick needed to do this. I just wanted to be with him.

We stayed like that a couple of moments, and I nodded, before walking over to Shane, balancing myself on his Jeep's bumper next to him. Shane curled his arm around my shoulders, tugging me into his side, and I rested my head on his shoulder, while Rick got Carl's blessing.

I closed my eyes, and prayed that I wouldn't regret letting Rick leave me behind this time. I prayed that nobody would end up getting hurt while they were gallivanting in a city that no longer belonged to the living.

I prayed for a miracle.

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**A/N:**

Hey guys!

Okay, so this is the longest chapter of Exit Wounds that I have ever written…it may possibly be the longest chapter of anything that I've ever written. A lot, and I mean a lot, of stuff is packed into this chapter; we've got the reunion between the King's County family (Rick, Lori, Carl, Shane and Thea), we've got Rick's story, we've got the set-up to Lori/Shane, we've got more Rick and Thea fluff and more insight into their childhood with Shane. There's also the introduction of Daryl, the foundations of friendship between Thea, Amy and Andrea (I don't want to spoil things but I've got great things planned), Rick revealing his plans to go back into the city to save Merle and get the guns, plus even more Rick and Thea relationship foundation building.

This was a monster of a chapter that I just couldn't find a place to cut it off. I mean, there are probably several, but the cut-off point here felt better, more natural, you know?

Anyway, I want to thank all of the beautiful reviewers for the last chapter;

**SnarktheRose, MrsBennyLafitte, Proxy-Blue22, angie b, Cooky Crumbla** and **heatherhugsall.**

You guys are so awesome and thank you so, so, so much for taking the time to review, because reviews are so important to writers in terms of getting motivation to write. If you think no one's reading, then you lose the motivation to write.

The next chapter update will be on **September 19th**, and it's going to be a good one, so keep an eye out for it.

I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I put a lot of time and effort into this so please let me know what you think!

Until next time,

SophStratt.


	10. Thousand Yard Stare

**FOR FERN,**

**SLEEP TIGHT, ANGEL.**

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**"****If you're going through hell,**

**Keep going."**

**-Winston Churchill**

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**CHAPTER NINE – Thousand Yard Stare**

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Rick and the others had been gone an hour when Amy and Carol dragged me down to the quarry so I could wash my dirty clothes. We sat just at the water's edge, sitting on milk crates so our asses didn't get wet like our feet did, cleaning clothes and exchanging small talk. Well, Amy and I talked. Carol was mostly silent, because her husband was lurking somewhere behind us, watching us like a predator watches his prey.

It was almost normal, if we excluded the Master Frog Catchers goofing around in the lake just in front of us. Shane was teaching Carl how to catch frogs, although they hadn't caught any, and were unlikely to with all the ruckus they were making. It was nice, though. Watching Carl just being a kid, and Shane playing around and being less serious. That's all he'd been since Rick and I had gotten into camp. Serious Shane. I guess leading the group had been hard on him, trying to keep all these people happy and alive. Maybe with Rick and I showing up, we could divide the labor, make things easier on him.

Andrea and Jacqui joined us, just after Shane had managed to fully submerge himself, now soaked from head to toe, splashing water towards Carl and telling him to catch the frogs that weren't jumping towards the boy. Jacqui was grumbling under her breath, and when she was in hearing distance, I started to be able to make out what she was saying.

"Can someone explain to me how the women wound up doing all the Hattie McDaniel work?" She asked us, as we all continued scrubbing the laundry, trying to get all the dirt out of the cloth as best we could, given that we'd been practically sent back to Middle Age cleaning methods, as we used three metal scrubbing boards to beat off the dirt, and Andrea was forced to use a brush.

"The world ended. Didn't you get the memo?" Amy snarked, and I smirked at her response.

"It's just the way it is." Carol replied more seriously, as she and Amy handed Jacqui a couple of newly cleaned shirts to put in a basket to be taken back to camp.

"So…what's with you and Rick?" Amy questioned, and I barked out a laugh in surprise at her bluntness. Was it that obvious that I was in love with my best friend?

"I already asked that once. He said it's complicated." Andrea answered for me.

"What the hell does that mean?" Jacqui asked, and Andrea shrugged her shoulders. "You two always look damn cozy for 'complicated'. You basically gravitate towards each other. Isn't this the longest you've been apart since you found him?"

"Yeah, and we're not complicated. It's just White Knight Syndrome. I saved his life, he's feeling even more attached and connected with me. It's nothing to make something out of." I lied, partly, because I was in love with him and he was half married or half divorced with a kid, so it was complicated, and partly, because I had no idea how he actually felt. If he had thought we were just friends, he would have told Andrea that, wouldn't he? I had no idea why he had told her it was complicated, because it was, but I had thought that it was only complicated on my end, not his.

"That's not it. The way he looks at you, and you look at him, there's something more there." Andrea suggested, and I took a deep breath, not looking towards her and her knowing glance, as I focused on cleaning the shirt I had worn to Atlanta.

"Do you love him?" Amy questioned, and I froze. I know I did, but I've never admitted aloud to anyone, not even myself.

"Uh…can we talk about something else please? Like how badly it sucks using this freaking washboard?" I laughed nervously, desperate to change the subject.

"I do miss my Maytag." Carol agreed, and I shot her a grateful smile. At least someone knew when to let sleeping dogs lie.

"I miss my Benz, my sat-nav." Andrea shared.

"I miss my coffeemaker, with that dual-drip filter and built-in grinder, honey." Jacqui described, and I hummed at the mention of coffee. The coffee at army bases was basically just black sludge, but it was coffee, and I lived on caffeine fixes, especially when I ran out of cigarettes. I needed a hit of something, nicotine or caffeine, it didn't matter to me, as long as it relieved my stress at the end of a difficult day or mission.

"My computer…and texting." Amy added, and I smiled. Amy seemed so mature for her age, at times, despite the love of mythical creatures, that it was easy to forget she was still quite young.

"I miss nicotine." I said. I'd had to ration my cigarettes, since I only had eight left in my case now. When I was really desperate for a nicotine fix, I'd have one, but until then I'd hold out.

"I miss my vibrator." Andrea confessed, and I chuckled along with Amy, nudging Andrea with my shoulder.

To be honest, I just missed sex and being intimate with a man. I hadn't gotten laid for about eight months before this all happened. The last time was with a fellow soldier, and we'd just survived a surprise attack from Iraqi rebels and came away unscathed, unlike some of the men we had joined up with on a scouting mission. We'd been relieved of duty for a week, so we'd gotten drunk that night, and ended up sleeping together any chance we got for the rest of that week. It was more comfort than real connection, and we didn't really get a chance to explore anything more serious, since he was gunned down, KIA, two days after returning to active duty.

"Me too." Carol replied, causing us all to laugh louder in surprise. Carol was so reserved and shy, that to hear her say that was almost scandalous. Especially with Ed seeming to make her more of an introvert than anything.

Speaking of, Ed must've heard his wife enjoying herself as he walked up behind us, puffing on a smoke.

"What's so funny?" He questioned, and his looming presence seemed to sober us all, Carol even more so. I think we all noticed the difference between light, laughing Carol, and oppressed, tense, wary Carol.

"Just swapping war stories, Ed." Andrea replied casually, though we exchanged wary glances. I guess I wasn't the only one who thought Ed wasn't exactly the best guy, or even a good guy.

"Yeah." Carol backed up, turning back to her washing and trying to ignore her husband's intimidation techniques. If she asked me, I was confident I could have him on his back, choking on dirt, in no time at all. Carol was too good to ask that though, too dutiful a wife.

Ed didn't take the wordless dismissal of us all returning to work, though, he just walked ever closer to us with that damn cigarette between his fingers. Carol's body was tenser than a soldier walking into a crowded Afghan street and spotting wires, and I didn't like that her husband was able to do that to her without even saying more than three words. Andrea seemed to share my thoughts as she turned back round to face the big believed brute.

"Problem, Ed?" She questioned, and I arched my brow at him, daring him to respond.

"Not that concerns you. And you ought to focus on your work. This ain't no comedy club."

Andrea and I scoffed, but continued to work, despite the fact Ed remained behind us, even scolding Carol over not doing his laundry right. I rolled my eyes, dropping my pants back into the bucket of soapy water, and stood up at the same time Andrea did.

"Ed, tell you what…you don't like how your laundry is done, you are welcome to pitch in and do it yourself. Here." Andrea smiled sarcastically at him, gently tossing him the wet shirt in her hands.

Ed caught it, throwing it back to her with more force than necessary, the wet shirt hitting her hard in the chest. I stepped closer to her, squaring my shoulders and crossing my arms across my chest, standing taller. This was Military Thea coming out to play, and he did not want that, if he wanted to walk away without a black eye.

"Ain't my job, missy." Ed grunted, still puffing away on his smoke, an all too casual vibe coming off him.

"Andrea, Thea, don't." Amy warned us, standing behind us, her hand on Andrea's arm.

"What is your job, Ed? Sitting on your ass smoking cigarettes?" Andrea questioned, and I saw the shift in Ed's beady eyes. He did not like someone standing up to him, especially a woman.

"It sure as hell ain't listening to some uppity smart-mouthed bitch, I'll tell you what," Ed snapped, dropping his smoke on the ground, and gesturing to Carol. "Come on, let's go."

Carol climbed to her feet, but I waved her back, and she hesitated.

"I don't think she needs to go with you, Ed." I informed him, stepping forward a little bit more, putting myself in between Ed and the other women.

Ed was a tall guy, so I had to crane my neck a little to keep eye contact, but his size didn't intimidate me. Some of my army buddies had been built like brick shithouses, towering over me at six feet or more and I still took them down in training. It's just all about knowing how to use the height difference or weight difference to your own advantage, and my drill sergeant had taught me well.

"I don't know who you are, but I say it's none of your business," Ed brushed me off, but I stood tall and stayed where I was. He practically snapped his fingers at Carol, and I knew I couldn't let her go with him. She'd get hurt. "Come on now, you heard me."

"Carol." Andrea placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to stop her from moving forward, but Carol started mumbling excuses for them. I didn't move though, keeping Ed's stare, and making sure that he didn't have access to his wife.

He didn't like that.

"Hey, don't think I won't knock you on your ass, just cos you're some army wannabe, all right?" Ed threatened, and I laughed at his attempt to belittle me, and Andrea scoffed from behind me. Ed just pointed one of his large, fat fingers at his tiny wife, ignoring my death glare. "Now, you come on now, or you gonna regret it later."

"So she can show up with fresh bruises later, Ed? Yeah, we've seen them." Jacqui stepped in, and brought the topic right out into the open and confirmed my suspicions. Ed was an abusive asshole who beat on his kind, harmless, sweet as a peach wife. And shit like that did not fly with me.

"Stay out of this. You know what, this ain't none of y'all's business," Ed grunted, a sick smile on his face as he continued to threaten us. "You don't want to keep prodding the bull here, okay? Now, I am done talking."

He grabbed Carol by the arm, yanking her forward, and I saw the twisted grimace on Carol's face that said he had pulled her a little too hard.

"Come on." Ed practically growled at his wife, and both Andrea and I grabbed her arms to keep her with us.

"No, no. Carol, you don't have…" Andrea started, getting cut off by Ed suddenly exploding. Carol had been muttering under her breath, and Ed had seen that as talking back.

"You don't tell me what! I tell you what!" Ed yelled, smacking Carol across the face, knocking her to the side and into Amy, who quickly grabbed her and pulled her out of harm's way.

"I didn't want it to come to this, but hitting Carol was the wrong move to make." I sighed, before I stomped down on Ed's foot, kneeing him in the groin before bringing his face down onto my knee. He fell backwards, groaning, but got back to his feet quickly, much quicker than I expected from someone his size, and rushed towards us, trying to get his wife back from us.

The other women were all startled and yelling and screeching at Ed as he started to fight back, managing to punch me in the stomach, before I kicked him back, sending him back into the dust…and into Shane. Shane grabbed him by the shirt and forcibly dragged the wife-beater away from us women, ignoring Ed's grunts for freedom.

Shane threw him into the ground, before laying into him. And I mean, he really laid into him. He beat Ed until his face was covered in blood, and Andrea, Amy, Carol and Jacqui were begging him to stop the onslaught. Seeing that Shane wasn't going to stop, he was angry but there was more to it, I stepped in.

"Shane, honey, he's learned his lesson." I said softly, creeping forward so Shane didn't flip out on me. I didn't know what had made him that angry, but I would find out, away from the others. He had never flipped his lid that badly before.

Shane seemed to have heard me and my words registered, as his fists of fury stopped flying, and he glared down at the mess that was Ed's ugly face.

"You put your hands on your wife, your little girl, my best friend, or anybody else in this camp, I will not let her stop me next time. Do you hear me?" Shane questioned, grabbing Ed's face in one hand, and pulling it closer to him. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes." Ed practically squeaked, his voice slurring from the savage beating he took.

"I'll beat you to death, Ed." Shane warned, landing one last punch, before he staggered to his feet. Carol broke free of Andrea's hold then, sobbing hysterically as she dropped to her knees at her husband's side, begging him for forgiveness.

The other women all looked at Shane with a little apprehension and fear. He had gone a little far, but Ed deserved a taste of his own medicine. He beat on his wife, who clearly couldn't fight back herself, and I dread to think about what he did to that little girl of theirs.

Shane, seeing the disapproval in their faces, stormed off back up to camp, and I followed him, neither of us speaking until we were a good distance away from them. We were halfway to camp when Shane stopped suddenly, and I paused as well, waiting for him to say something.

"You think I went too far?" Shane questioned, not looking at me, his eyes on his boots.

"A little, but it wasn't like he didn't deserve it. He beats her. Sometimes a bully needs to know what it feels like to be the victim," I shrugged, and Shane finally locked eyes with me, knowing that I was on his side. "I also know that Ed beating on Carol wasn't all that was about. Something happen with Lori?"

"What makes you say that?" Shane's eyes darted to the floor, before coming back to rest on my face. It was his tell. Whenever he lied, he looked at the floor first before practically staring you down. I'd won a lot of money in poker games because of that particular facial tick.

"I've known you my whole life. I know all your faces, especially the 'I'm mooning after a girl' face. I get it. You and Lori thought Rick was dead, you found comfort in each other. I understand, and I'm not gonna judge you," I said, noticing his body tense at the first mention of him and Lori in a romantic sense, but relax as soon as I promised him that I understood. He knew that I couldn't ever hate him, especially not for loving somebody, even if she wasn't his to love. I mean, she wasn't Rick's wife anymore, but they hadn't exactly gotten Rick's blessing, had they? "I just want everyone to be happy, as happy as they can be at the end of the world, so…what happened?"

"She thinks I lied about-about Rick being dead. She thinks I said it so I could make a move on her. I-I-I wouldn't do that, you know I wouldn't! Rick is my brother, and I love him, and I wouldn't make a move on his ex, if he was still alive and able to give me permission," Shane rambled, relieved he had someone to talk about his problems with, since he couldn't exactly talk to Rick about them. "I tried to get him out of that hospital! You know I did! But everything was so crazy, bullets flying everywhere, people screaming, and I put my ear to his chest and I didn't hear nothing! Not a damn thing! Maybe it was the gunfire, or panic, or the walkers, but I didn't hear his heart beating, T, I swear!"

"I know, Curly, I believe you. I trust you. It's just…I guess Lori's feeling just as guilty about the whole situation as you are. I mean, according to Rick, they were only separated three months and he was in a coma for a month after that, before the outbreak," I tried my best to guess at an explanation, something that would have him torturing himself less, because I didn't want him to dive off the deep end into crazy town because of something like this. Shane could go crazy over a girl and had done in the past. Not _'The Shining' _crazy, but crazy enough to worry about him now. "Their split is probably still fresh enough to her that it feels like she betrayed Rick by moving on with you. Just give her some time to work through things in her head. Don't smother her with explanations and apologies. I'm sure things will get better."

Shane smiled slightly, before pulling me into a hug with a heavy sigh. I wrapped my arms around his middle, hands gently stroking up and down his back, breathing in that familiar, almost comforting scent that was similar to Rick's but not quite. A mixture of sweat, the woods and a little body spray that Shane must be rationing. The smell of man, I thought, amusing myself.

"You always knew what to say to make me feel better." Shane muttered into my hair, and I smiled softly over his shoulder.

"I'm your best friend; making you feel better comes with the job." I said, squeezing him tight, before stepping away, taking him back to camp, sending a couple of guys down to help Carol with Ed.

Nobody questioned why Ed was beaten and bloodied. Maybe Dale had seen the whole thing from his perch on top of his RV, or maybe Ed's beating had been a long time coming and they realized that it was going to happen sooner or later.

It made me feel kind of sick to know that a lot of these people had realized that Ed was abusive to his wife, and maybe his daughter, but none of them had done a damn thing. Granted, it was Ed and Carol's marriage and wasn't really any of anyone's business, but I couldn't stand by, knowing it was happening. Especially since Carol was a kind, gentle woman. I'd seen that much in my brief time in camp. She did a lot of the 'women's work'; helping out with the laundry, the cooking, the ironing, the general upkeep, and never complained about it. She liked helping out. Carol had shown that much when she had taken it upon herself to wash Rick's uniform.

A woman like her, a person like her, didn't deserve the harsh treatment that Ed gave to her, and probably had given to her throughout their marriage and relationship. No woman, or man, deserved treatment like that.

I wondered whether Ed had ever been a nice guy that a nice girl like Carol would love and adore, or if he'd been a bad boy type that a good girl like Carol had tried to make better and change into someone nicer, but had failed and instead found herself being molded and transformed into the shell of the woman she had been before.

Whichever way it was, I was determined not to let Carol take anymore beatings from her husband. I don't care if people didn't approve of me interfering in her marriage, I was going to help her, in whatever way I could.

Even if it meant taking a hit for her, or giving back to him as good as Ed gave, I'd do it, because Carol, and more importantly her daughter, needed to see that they deserved someone standing up for them, that what Ed did wasn't right, wasn't good, and that they _could_ survive without him, if needs be.

They wouldn't need Ed for protection from walkers, because they had a large group who loved them and wanted to protect them instead. We just needed to make Carol see that.

* * *

Once the Ed/Carol/Shane drama had died down, and everybody had gotten back to their chores, I finished my laundry and then joined Dale up on his RV. He'd said he didn't need my help on watch, but when I told him that I _needed_ to be on watch, he seemed to understand what I wasn't saying and caved in.

I sat in Dale's folding chair, since he wanted to pace and stretch his legs a bit, scanning the skyline through the scope of my M4. My eyes would constantly leave the horizon to watch Dale, glad that the RV had a wide roof, but still worried that he might fall off the top of it as he walked back and forth.

Binoculars in hand, Dale scoped out the surrounding area, until he stopped his pacing, pausing long enough for it to be noticeable to me.

"What is it?" I questioned, looking up at him with wary eyes. He had definitely seen something disturbing going by the look on his face.

"What is he doing?" Dale pondered aloud, probably not even hearing my question. He seemed to be too sucked into his own thoughts to have acknowledged that I had even spoken at all.

I rose up from the chair, turning around and lifted the rifle, squinting down the scope as I tried to follow Dale's line of sight. I sighed when I saw it. Jim was digging in the stifling heat of the day. I'd had to roll the short sleeves of my t-shirt up, as well as the hem so that my stomach was exposed, and I was still too warm just sitting up on the RV, so Jim was in danger of overheating or heatstroke.

"Why is he digging? Did anybody ask him to do that today?" I asked, lowering my rifle, and looking towards Dale, who had lowered his binoculars.

"No. It is strange," Dale agreed, glancing over at me. "I'll go talk to him, try and get him back into camp and get some water into him."

"I'll hold down the fort until you get back," I said, letting him past to climb down the ladder, before I raised my scope again, watching Jim just dig and dig and dig, like God himself had charged him with the task. Even from a distance, he looked solely focused on digging, not caring that the harsh afternoon sun was beating down on his back, or that he hadn't stopped digging for most of the day, or that his body was probably protesting against him. He just kept digging. "What the hell are you doing, Jim?"

I turned my attention back to the surrounding areas, trusting that Dale could deal with Jim since they seemed to be close, waiting for that white loading van to come hurtling down the dirt road and all the men would come pouring out, safe and alive, bringing back the spoils of war. They'd be one man up plus armed and protected. Rick, Shane and I could hand the guns out, teach the rest of the group how to defend themselves.

We could be safe, but I knew we'd have to leave the quarry. We were too exposed here. The trees did provide a certain shelter, but the walker this morning had proved that the woods were not safe. We needed walls, solid walls or fences, something that would keep walkers out. We needed a safe haven, a place we could try to make into a home. The kids needed stability. They needed a roof and four walls and beds to sleep on. Not tents that a walker could rip its way into.

It wasn't safe here, even with the group's numbers, and I just wondered how long our luck would last out here.

I can't imagine it would last much longer.

Shaking my head as happy cheers erupted behind me, I pushed away those negative thoughts to turn and see that Andrea and Amy had brought back at least two dozen fish into camp. I grinned as Andrea handed Morales her catch with a triumphant grin and he thanked her for feeding his family. My grin widened when I heard Carl ask if Andrea and Amy could teach him how to catch fish. He was such a curious kid and, as long as it didn't have anything to school, he always wanted to learn new things.

"Hey, Dale! When's the last time you oiled those line reels? They are a disgrace." I heard Andrea tease him as the old man walked back into camp, a concerned look on his face. I quickly abandoned my post, sensing that the thing with Jim was a little more serious than we'd thought, and jogged towards him, with Shane on my six seeming to sense the same thing. It was lucky that I had attached the strap onto my rifle, as I was able to sling it over my shoulder so it wasn't in my way.

"I, uh, I don't want to alarm anyone…but we may have a bit of a problem." Dale informed them, turning and pointing towards where Jim was still digging in the distance.

* * *

Dale led us to where Jim was still shoveling dirt, sweat drowning his clothes and I imagine that he was feeling a little discomfort from the feeling. Most of us were sweating from the heat, correction we _all_ were, but Jim was performing a vigorous chore making it worse for himself.

He didn't even pay attention to us as we approached him, pretty much the entire group following along to see why Jim had been digging half the day and to try and persuade him to stop.

"You wanna take the lead with this one?" I whispered to Shane, who nodded at me and stepped forward, though I stuck close behind him.

"Hey, Jim. Jim, why don't you hold up, all right? Just give me a second here, please." Shane requested, though Jim seemed very reluctant to stop digging, only doing so with a sigh of exasperation as he stuck the shovel back into the ground, but didn't relinquish his hold of it.

"What do you want?" Jim asked.

"We're a little concerned, man, that's all." Shane shrugged, and I gave Jim a tense, worried smile when his eyes moved from Shane to me then beyond.

"Dale says you've been out here for hours." Morales added, and I noticed that Jim was panting slightly, clearly in need of a drink and a rest. He just wasn't going to take one. Not without a push.

"So?"

"So, why are you digging? What, are you heading to China, Jim?" Shane chuckled at his own joke, while I rolled my eyes at it. It was not one of his best, I'll admit, but for a moment it did lighten my mood and I felt some of the tension dissipate. Not all of it, but some.

"What does it matter? I'm not hurting anyone." Jim retorted, not finding Shane's humor funny at all. He just started to dig again, another clear brush off.

"Yeah, except maybe yourself. Its 100 degrees today. You can't keep this up." Dale insisted, sounding really concerned about his friend. Since I'd gotten to camp, I'd noticed that Jim and Dale were always tinkering with that damn RV together, talking about everything and nothing. They were good friends. His concern was valid, though. Jim couldn't continue on as he was, not in this heat and not without a drink and a rest.

"Sure I can. Watch me." Jim challenged, and Lori sighed, stepping forward so she was stood behind Shane and me.

"Jim, they're not gonna say it, so I will. You're scaring people," Lori informed him, her voice gentle so she didn't anger him, but firm so that her words wouldn't be easily brushed aside. It was her 'Mother' voice, one that I recognized on my returns to King County when Carl wanted to stay up late with the adults who were catching up. "You're scaring my son and Carol's daughter."

"They got nothing to be scared of," Jim argued, halting his work again, before he stretched his arms out wide, as though asking what they had to be afraid of. I guess I got his point. He was just a man with a shovel, digging holes in the ground, and he wasn't disturbing anybody until Dale pointed it out. The kids were scared because the holes that Jim were digging…they were long, as though they were meant for bodies. "I mean, what the hell, people? I'm out here by myself. Why don't you all just go and leave me the hell alone?"

"Jim, we think that you just need a break, okay? Why don't you go find a spot of shade, cool down, and I'll bring you some water? Some food?" I asked, though it was clear to everyone that it wasn't really up for debate. I made sure my tone was light, but when Jim caught my eyes, he knew that I wasn't giving him a choice. "Shane and I will even come help you finish up ourselves."

"Jim, just tell us what it's about," Shane pressed, wanting to know why they all had to be up here trying to stop him in the first place. "Why don't you just go ahead and give me that shovel?"

"Or what?" Jim snapped, and Shane looked taken aback.

"There is no 'or what'. I'm asking you. I'm coming to you and I'm asking you, please. I don't want to have to take it from you." Shane replied, trying to be calm and gentle with the other man, who was looking at him like he was almost the ultimate threat.

"And if I don't, then what? Then you're gonna beat my face in like Ed Peletier, aren't you?" Jim taunted, and I glared at him, as Shane's head dropped, ashamed that his earlier actions were being thrown in his face like that. "Y'all seen his face, huh? What's left of it. See, now, that's what happens when someone crosses you."

"That was different, Jim." Shane said quietly, and I reached out and squeezed his arm, trying to calm him down and comfort him at the same time.

"You weren't there," Amy called, standing behind her sister near the back of the group, defending Shane. "Ed was out of control. He was hurting his wife."

"That is their marriage. That is not his. He is not judge and jury," Jim growled at her, thrusting a pointed finger towards Shane. "Who voted you king boss, huh?"

"Jim, we're not here to argue with you." I said, biting back all the words I wanted to say.

They voted him the leader, _they_ did when they stood by and let Ed continue to hurt his wife and did nothing. She was being hurt by the man who was supposed to keep her and her daughter safe and they did nothing. Shane did. He stepped up. Andrea and I started the fight, but Shane ended it. He may have gone a little too far, gotten a little overzealous with the beating, but at least he did something. Carol was a good woman, and Sophia was an innocent, little girl, neither of them deserved the hand they were dealt.

"Yeah, man, so just give me the shovel, okay?" Shane requested again, reaching out to take it when Jim pulled it out of his reach.

"No, no, no," Jim protested, as Shane kept trying to take the shovel from him, shoving him away and swinging it at him. When Shane ducked so the shovel missed him, I launched myself at the crazed man, tackling him into the dirt, pinning him to the ground. "You got no right!"

"Jim, just stop it! Just stop! Nobody's gonna hurt you, okay? I'm not gonna hurt you. You hear me? Nobody is going to hurt you, Jim, okay?" I questioned, as I twisted his arms behind his back, and held him down, though he stopped struggling against me. Shane handed me a pair of cuffs and I took them, gratefully. We'd need to keep him restrained for a while.

"That's a lie. That's the biggest lie there is," Jim half-cried, as I snapped the cuffs around his wrists, and the sadness in his voice almost made me pause, but I cuffed him. "I told that to my wife and my two boys. I said it a hundred times. It didn't matter. They came out of nowhere. There were dozens of 'em. Just pulled 'em right out of my hands. The only reason I got away was cos the dead were too busy eating my family."

I felt tears dripping down my cheeks, as Jim shared that with us, and I stepped off him, letting Shane help him to his feet. Lori seemed just as emotional as I was, so I pulled her into my arms as we followed Shane and Jim back into the camp.

I was less surprised that Jim had finally cracked. To have had to watch his family die, to have them physically ripped out of his arms and devoured by walkers, and then knowing that their deaths were the only reason he was alive…that would have destroyed a lesser person. Jim was much stronger than I gave him credit for, he was just broken.

Broken men were what this world created after all.

* * *

**A/N:**

Hey guys!

I'm back!

The last two months have been really hard for me. Some of you know that I lost my friend in October. She was 19 and it was a heart attack - it was so sudden and I'm still trying to come to terms with it. I've never really had to deal with a death this suddenly before and it really just turned my world upside down. She was such a beautiful person and so young and so...full of life, which sounds very cliche, but it's true. She was healthy one day and the next she was gone.

So this story is now for Fern. She wasn't really a Walking Dead person, but I'm not writing a Paramore story (which she loved), so this will have to do. I'm sure she'd like it anyway.

I just want to thank all of you guys who sent your prayers and messages via the reviews page on my GoT fic. Reading those messages made going through this much easier, knowing that I had my fans support through this horrible time. I'm just sorry that I had to take a break from my writing. I just wasn't in the right head space to write anything particularly good.

We're up to chapter nine now, and this chapter had Thea on her own, _sans_ Rick, and we got to see her interact with some of our other characters, like Shane, the women and Ed and Jim. I'm actually happy that I kept Thea out of the action in the city because I wanted her to make more friendships with the group and display the relationships she had already, instead of keeping her with Rick. Otherwise she's just some girl following Rick around and that's it. For her to be a fully dimensional character, she's gotta have connections outside of her potential love interest. So, voila! The next chapter shows this off too, with interactions between Thea and Lori and Carl. So there's that to look forward to.

I also want to make sure that everyone knows that my personal opinion on domestic abuse is that nobody deserves to be treated like that by someone they trust. I know people who have been in that situation and it is never okay to be treated that way, if it's physical, emotional or mental abuse. You don't have to accept it and you don't have to stay with them. If you are a woman or a man or gender fluid,** you do not deserve abuse**. I don't want anyone to misconstrue anything I've written as what I think. In a perfect world, Shane would have arrested Ed and his punishment would have been decided by the justice system, but this is the Walking Dead and there is no real justice system anymore. I'm not a person who condones violence, but I also super mega loathe people who abuse people in that kind of way. Just so we're clear.

Anyway, this is my comeback so I'm trying to keep to my old schedule of updating every three weeks. The next update will be on **January 2nd. **And for my GoT fans, the next update on 'She Runs With Wolves and Lions' will be on **December 28th**.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it,

S. A. L. Stratton (my official writer's name).


	11. Stay Frosty

**"****She did not intend to be taken alive.**

**She would die as she had lived,**

**With a blade in her hand and a smile on her lips."**

**-George R. R. Martin**

* * *

**Chapter TEN – Stay Frosty**

* * *

Keeping one eye on Jim, my rifle at my side, I tried to help Carol and Lori with the kids schooling. It was Math, and surprise, surprise, Carl had inherited his father's math illiteracy. I swear, when it came to Math, the brains of the Grimes men just take a long walk somewhere very far away and stubbornly refused to return without a bribe, usually of the sweet or savory variety.

"What are we doing again?"

"Fractions and percentages, squirt. Your momma and Carol just taught you this," I reminded him, and Carl sighed, disappointed that he'd forgotten how to do it already. I nudged him, and pulled out a packet of beef jerky from my backpack, waving it in the air just in front of him. "You know this is how I had to bribe your dad to learn fractions. Beef jerky, sugar cookies and grape Kool Aid. If you focus, I'll give you some jerky. If you don't, I'll eat it. Beef's your favorite jerky flavor, right?"

Carl nodded, before he bent over his books again, Lori grinning at me as my techniques worked. I opened the packet of jerky, seeing Carl's eyes flicker up to me, and I smirked at him.

"Carl, buddy, if I ate twenty percent of this strip of jerky…how much is that as a fraction? I'm just curious." I questioned, shrugging my shoulder as I took a small bite and faked a satisfied moan as I did so. I smiled when I heard a little giggle from Sophia, glad that she was coming out of her shell a little bit more.

"Uh…one sixth?" Carl guessed, and I grinned at him, before taking a bigger bite of the jerky.

"I've just eaten about forty to forty six percent more. That's sixty percent of the jerky. What's that as a fraction?" I pressed, holding the small jerky piece aloft for him to see.

"Four sixths?" Carl hedged, and I arched a brow at him.

"You askin' or tellin'?" I teased him, and he grinned widely at me.

"Telling. You've eaten four sixths." Carl beamed, as his mother praised him for getting it right.

"I'm telling you. Bribery and food always works with the Grimes men," I said, handing him a couple strips of jerky, before handing the same to Sophia, who took them with a grateful smile and a quiet 'thank you'. "Only two for now. Andrea and Amy worked hard to catch those fish, so we have to save room for dinner."

I saw Jim staring blankly in our direction, so I climbed to my feet, grabbing my rifle so that Carl didn't get any dumb ideas, and walked over, plonking myself down onto the dirt, holding up a piece of jerky. Jim seemed to scrutinize it, before he nodded, and I held it up to his lips as he slowly dragged it into his mouth by his teeth.

We had to tie him to the tree since there was nowhere really to contain him, so his hands were trapped behind him. He seemed to understand, though. The kids were still a little nervous, so for their peace of mind, he was willing to sit there until Shane was convinced he was fine.

I sat there with him, placing the jerky back into my bag, and neither of us spoke. It didn't even feel awkward, almost like a companionable silence that didn't need to be filled with random chitchat that didn't matter.

Shane and Dale came over, Shane giving me a look of disapproval as we weren't supposed to be near Jim unless we had his say so, and Shane crouched down next to Jim so they were eye level and equal. I noticed the metal bucket my cop friend had placed down at his side, filled with clean water and guessed what he had come to do.

Shane tilted his head to the side, getting Jim's attention, and Dale held back a bit, not wanting to crowd his friend with both Shane and I near as well.

"Jim, take some water?" Shane asked, giving Jim the option now that he'd calmed down.

"All right." Jim nodded, probably now realizing just how desperate he was to cool down. He had been sweating bullets doing all that manual labor in the hot afternoon sun, and now he seemed to feel just how much that had affected his body.

"Yeah? All right," Shane smiled, putting his hand into the bucket, and pulling up a deep blue mug full of semi-cool water. He held it up to Jim's lips and nodded at him. "Here you go, bud."

Jim eagerly sipped at the water, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat as he gulped the liquid down, before he finished.

"Pour some on my head?" Jim requested, and Shane nodded, scooping up another mugful of water, and gently tipped it over Jim's head, the man sighing almost in relief at the sensation. He was obviously more overheated than he had thought.

"Cooling you down, huh?"

"Yeah," Jim breathed, before he looked at Shane straight in the eyes, a single question in his own. "How long you gonna keep me like this?"

"Well, yeah, until I don't think that you're a danger to yourself or others." Shane said, emphasizing the 'others' part, causing Jim to nod, his eyes moving from the cop and pseudo-leader to the two mothers and two children still doing their schooling at the small table just in front of him.

"Sorry if I scared your boy and your little girl." Jim apologized, and I half-smiled at the gesture.

All four looked over, none of them looking all that fearful. Jim was just a man tied to a tree, the heat had gotten to him, and he got a little crazy for a bit. He wasn't dangerous.

"You had sunstroke. Nobody's blaming you." Lori tried to assuage his guilt, but Jim clearly wasn't completely certain that the kids themselves had forgiven him as he addressed Sophia and Carl.

"You're not scared now, are you?"

"No, sir." Sophia replied, Carl shaking his head in agreement.

"Your mama's right," Jim said to Carl, who looked up from his schoolwork again to catch Jim's eyes. "Sun just cooked my head is all."

"Jim, do you know why you were digging?" Dale questioned, concern and curiosity warring on his face for his most prominent emotion. "Can you say?"

"I had a reason. Don't remember. Something I dreamed last night," Jim answered, his eyes flickering from Dale back to the 'school' table and to Carl. "Your dad was in it. You were too. You were worried about him. Can't remember the rest. You worried about your dad?"

"They're not back yet." Carl responded, and I lowered my eyes to the dirt.

I'd been trying not to think about how they probably should have been back a while ago. It was an easy retrieval mission. Get in, grab Merle and the bag of guns, and get out again. The only reason it could have taken them all day was if there were complications. For the sake of everybody, there had better not have been any complications. It would destroy the morale of the group, as well as the hearts of Carl and Lori and myself, possibly Shane too, if they didn't come back. It just didn't bear thinking about.

"We don't need to talk about that." Lori stated, rubbing Carl's back as Shane shot me a look of sympathy. Shane had always known how I'd felt about Rick, I think. He hadn't come right out and said so, but I knew that he knew. Shane was always intuitive that way.

"Your dad's a police officer, son. He helps people," Jim continued, ignoring Lori's subtle warning. She hadn't wanted to panic Carl, so there had been no mentions of Rick or the others all day since they'd left, especially once it started to look like they weren't coming back that night. "Probably just came across some folks needing help, that's all. That man, he's tough as nails. I don't know him well, but…I could see it in him. Am I right?"

Jim looked between Shane and me until one of us answered.

"Oh yeah." Shane replied, completely understating the entire thing, but it worked.

Rick Grimes was the toughest son of a bitch I knew. He wasn't physically the strongest man I'd met, but he was the strongest in character, in will and mind. I knew that there was nothing that Rick couldn't do if he put his mind to it. Once he believed he could do it…that was it, it got done. If he said he was coming back, I knew that he would find his way.

I just had to believe and hope that his strength would hold out and bring him home.

"There ain't nothing gonna stop him from getting back here to you, your mom and your step-mom, I promise you that."

I gaped for a minute, seeing that Shane was grinning down at me. Rick and I weren't even together, let alone married. I wasn't even wearing a wedding ring, for Christ's sake! I was just about to open my mouth to correct him, but Carl was already nodding, and Lori was hiding her silent laughs behind her hand, and then Shane picked up his pail and opened his damn mouth to cut me off.

"All right," Shane said, and I glared at the laughter in his tone. "Who wants to help me clean some fish, huh?"

"Sweet. Come on, Sophia." Carl urged the girl, as he climbed off his seat and chased after Shane, Sophia close behind.

"Stay with Carol, all right?" Lori said, as Carol started to follow the others along with Dale.

Lori got up off her seat and came over to Jim and me, crouching down in front of him, looking at her hands before she looked up at him, ready to speak. Jim got in first though.

"You keep your boy close. Both of ya," Jim said, and my eyes snapped to his. Carl wasn't mine. He was my godson, but he wasn't my boy. "You don't ever let him out of your sight."

Jim gave us such a fierce look that it completely wiped any of my protests from my mind, and we both nodded numbly, no words able to leave either of us, as we got up and left him to his thoughts.

When we got back to camp, Morales brought us over to show off his own genius; he'd built a rock wall around the fire so that the flames wouldn't be as visible which meant we could let the fire get a little higher.

"I, uh, built up the rocks all around, see? So the flames can be a little higher and have 'em be hidden." Morales grinned at his work, and I patted his shoulder, with a grin of my own.

"Using your initiative. Good work, Morales." I praised him, before I started helping the others get the fire and food started.

* * *

By the time the fish had been cooked, lukewarm beer had been distributed to the adults and soda to the kids, and we were all in relatively high spirits. Everyone was getting a full meal for a change.

I sat with my back to the tree line, my rifle resting against my leg, with Dale in the chair next to mine. I'd finished my fish fry, my stomach full for once, the dull ache that came with rations gone for now. It was delicious, and fresh and I'd almost forgotten what fresh food tasted like. Canned meat, canned anything, just didn't fill you the same way. I mean, you could obviously live on it, and it wasn't that bad for your health, but it just lacked the taste that came with fresh food.

So I was happy and satisfied, smiling as I picked up my rifle and started to clean it.

Everyone was talking, laughing, and enjoying themselves, faces bright in the glow of the fire. Everyone, but Ed, who had wisely decided not to join us, and the four man rescue team.

Carol and Sophia had joined us too, and it was nice to see them both smiling and having fun without the fear of Ed's shadow forcing them to silence themselves before they got hurt. No one could say, with the massive smiles on each of their faces, that Shane had been wrong to beat Ed black and blue now, not when Carol and Sophia looked so…free and happy.

The dinner conversation switched a lot from the food to the drink to old memories people would bring up about life before walkers. Simple things like school runs, work, drinks with friends, college experiences. Eventually, Morales shifted the conversation onto Dale, who had finished his fish and was staring speculatively into the darkness beside him.

"I've gotta ask you, man, it's been driving me crazy." Morales prompted, grabbing Dale's attention, as well as his wife's and pretty much everybody else's.

"What?"

"That watch." Morales pointed, and I glanced at Dale, looking down at his watch, finger stroking the face. It probably had sentimental value. A gift from his wife, maybe. I know that she died, he'd told me earlier, to cancer, but he never said how long ago. She had probably bought that watch before she was diagnosed or before they knew the cancer was terminal, and it meant a great deal to him. Especially with the care he gave it.

"What's wrong with my watch?" Dale questioned, eyes still staring at it, before finally flicking back up to Morales.

"I see you every day, same time, winding that thing, like a village priest saying mass."

"I've wondered this myself." Jacqui said, as she forked a piece of fish on her plate, glancing up at the old man with her dark eyes and an amused smile that seemed to span the whole group. Being the only newcomer around the fire, I didn't really know what they were talking about.

"I'm missing the point." Dale informed them, and I nodded since I was too.

"Unless I've misread the signs, the world seems to have come to an end. At least hit a speed bump for a good long while." Jacqui stated, a small satirical smile gracing her face.

"But there's you every day winding that stupid watch." Morales added, that happy grin still on his face.

"Time, it's important to keep track, isn't it? The days at least. Don't you think, Andrea?" Dale asked, gesturing to the blonde who was sipping on her beer. "Back me up here."

Andrea just shook her head, a wide smile on her face, and I remembered her mentioning it was her sister's birthday soon, so I guess she didn't want to remind Amy so she would be more surprised when the day actually came.

"What about you, Thea? I saw you winding your own watch earlier today. Help me out here."

"My, uh, my drill sergeant gave me the watch when I was made a Ranger," I smiled down at it, the simple titanium Army watch that had seen him, and me, through most of his, and my, career. He didn't have any children of his own and he treated me like his. He didn't exactly give me special treatment, he just pushed me harder to prove myself, so I did. "He kept saying to me 'Winters, timing…timing is everything. It can be the difference between life and death, love and hate, the greatest happiness and the greatest sorrow. Time is the only thing that never changes, the only thing that you can count on in this life, besides an inevitable death'."

"Sounds like a wise man," Dale smiled at me, and I nodded, looking at him from the corner of my eye. Dale grinned before looking into the fire as he thought out his next words. "I like, I like what, um, a father said to son, when he gave him a watch that'd been handed down through generations. He said, "I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine, or my father's before me. I give it to you, not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it, for a moment now and then, and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it". Huh?"

There was a long silence as we all listened to his words, some of us with wistful smiles, some with contemplative expressions, until Amy broke it with four words that made mostly all of us laugh or chuckle.

"You are so weird."

"It's not me, it's Faulkner," Dale chuckled, trying to defend himself. "William Faulkner. Maybe my bad paraphrasing."

I chuckled a little bit, wiping down my gun with a half-clean rag. Despite the buzzing in the air, that excited thrumming energy that seemed to be all around us from eating a simple, but large meal, there was a pit in my gut that I couldn't get rid of. Like my gut was warning me something terrible was going to happen. While I could put that down to my constant worry that Rick and the others could be in danger in the city, I didn't fully believe that it was. Each time I tried to push those thoughts away, I kept thinking of Jim digging those large, almost human-length holes in the ground, and it felt like an omen.

Amy standing up pulled me out of my head, as my eyes snapped towards the movement.

"Where are you going?" Andrea questioned, and Amy looked down at her elder sister in annoyance.

"I have to pee," She informed her, and I shook my head with a smile, as she turned away and muttered to herself, "Jeez, you try to be discreet around here!"

I watched her as she walked away, that twisting in my gut getting worse. I scanned the area, looking for any threats, or even just animals in the forest that had wandered near to camp, anything that could be the cause of that sinking feeling in my stomach.

Shane must've seen me searching, as he stared at me before he spoke.

"What's wrong, T?"

"I don't know. I've got a feeling, bad kind. Probably just paranoid." I said, dismissing the feeling aloud, but I turned my eyes back towards the RV.

"Gut feeling?" Shane questioned, and I nodded, not turning back to him, though I felt more eyes than his two burning holes into me. I didn't want to panic the rest of the group and have it be nothing, but at the same time, maybe it was best that they were always a little on edge. It wasn't safe to be complacent, to think you're safe. Nobody is these days. "Your gut's never been wrong before. Maybe it's about Rick and the others. Maybe it's because they haven't come back yet."

"Maybe." I murmured in agreement, forcing a smile on my face as Amy clambered out of the RV again, a look of annoyance on her face.

"We're out of toilet paper?" She complained, probably annoyed that nobody had mentioned it before she had gone in.

I saw it before anybody else did, so when I aimed my gun in Amy's direction, Andrea almost leaped out of her seat to tackle me. I squeezed the trigger twice, the kids screaming at the sound, but the bullets didn't hit Amy.

They hit the walker that was about to grab and bite her.

"Walkers!" I yelled, firing at woman missing half of her face as she stumbled towards the young blonde, who had squeezed her eyes closed when I had shot near her before.

Amy, opening her eyes and seeing the fallen undead people at her feet, screamed loudly, and that's when chaos ensued.

Walkers poured into camp, and everybody scrambled away from the campfire, trying to find some sort of safety. Shane started firing rounds of his shotgun, taking down walkers, while I did the same, rushing forward with Andrea to get to Amy. The men started to grab their melee weapons; bats, pipes, whatever they could find, while the women, particularly the mothers, tried to keep their kids at their sides and near to the closest armed person.

Walkers grabbed at us, and I felt strong dead hands try to grab my waist, but I shot them down, before any could scratch me or bite me, splattering dull red blood on my clothes. I grabbed Andrea's hand, and practically threw her towards her sister, who was still screaming and crying, before I put my back to them.

I had a better vantage point in front of the RV. I could see everybody in front of me, and all the walkers pouring in from all angles but behind me. I slowed my breathing, pushing down any emotional response to the attack, and felt the soldier in me come out again. I raised my M4, wishing I could use the grenade launcher, but everybody was so scattered that I could hit one of the group, and fired on the walkers.

It was just head shot after head shot, walker after walker, until I saw Shane, Lori and Carol approaching with Carl and Sophia in tow, the two mothers gripping their children and each other for dear life, not wanting to lose them, or each other, in all the chaos.

"Stay close!" I yelled, rushing forward to help Shane, looking around at the utter mess that the camp had become. Everybody was scattered. I could see at least six of our own people littered among the many walkers on the ground. We had suffered some major casualties tonight. "Come on!"

I grabbed Carol's skinny wrist in my hand and tugged her forward behind me until we reached Andrea and Amy, who were clutching each other desperately. Andrea was holding Amy so tightly to her that her knuckles were turning white from the effort, probably in shock at how close she had come to losing her baby sister.

"Come on, y'all! Work your way up here!" Shane instructed, waving his free arm towards Morales' wife and kids, as Morales beat a walker back to death with a wooden bat in front of them.

"Right in front of you, Shane!" Lori called out, and Shane and I both whirled back round to fire at the three walkers who had gotten in front of us and near to the RV.

"Get to the RV! Go!" I heard Morales urge to some of the survivors of the attack, and Shane and I pushed our weaponless loved ones and friends behind us as we got closer to the RV, seeing that most of the walkers were coming in from the sides and the forest now.

I dropped walker after walker, but it felt like with each one I killed, there was just another one to take its place.

"Morales, work your way up here!" Shane ordered the man, who had pushed his family towards us, but continued to beat the dead senseless with his blunt instrument.

Then we heard the extra gunfire, and I almost sobbed in relief.

Rick, Glenn, Daryl and T-Dog were back, armed and dangerous, to help save us.

With their added assistance, we made quick work of the remaining walkers, and I heard Rick before I saw him.

"Thea! Carl!" Rick hollered, and I heard the fear in it. He was scared that we were one of the dead, like so many of the group were now. "Thea! Carl!"

"Dad!" Carl called, running out from behind us and into Rick's arms. Carl sobbed into his dad's shoulder, and I stared at the scene, thinking that their embrace was so similar to their one yesterday, yet so different at the same time.

Rick, with Carl still in his arms, made his way towards us, and I had tears streaming down my face, stepping out of the way so he could make a beeline to Lori, who still stood by Shane, but he didn't. He stomped straight towards me, before wrapping his free arm, still gripping a rifle, around my back and pulled me into their embrace. I dropped my own rifle, so I could grip his shirt in my hands, while I hugged him and Carl to me, grateful that they were still alive.

The only sounds to be heard now where the muffled sobs of the kids, the crackling of the still burning fire and gasps and whimpers that came from Glenn and Amy, the two most visibly panicked and disturbed of the group. No one spoke, everyone being in a state of shock as we all took in the destruction of the camp and the severity of our losses. No one spoke, until Jim did, and no one spoke for a long time after, too stunned to form a response.

"I remember my dream now, why I dug the holes."

* * *

**A/N:**

Hi Guys!

I'm back again! And this is my first update of 2016.

Technically, this is only about half an hour late, so I'm counting it as on time. Even though it isn't.

So the camp has been attacked and Rick and the guys are back. Oh, and AMY LIVES! I wanted to change Andrea's story line and I thought what better way to do that than to save her mermaid-loving, baby sister, Amy. Plus, I liked Amy. I'm going to have a lot of fun developing Amy and seeing where I can take her character and how it changes the story that already exists. What do you guys think of this twist?

And what did you guys think of the tutoring session right at the beginning? Thea knows how to get the Grimes men to cooperate. And Jim calling Thea 'Carl's Step-Mom' was something that made me chuckle as I pictured Thea's reaction, because we know that's something that Thea would love, but she's so heavily conflicted about actually admitting her feelings for Rick to another person.

I'm planting all these seeds, guys. Can't wait for them to bloom into something awesome. (I'm tired, please forgive all the flowery-ness).

So now that the camp has been attacked, we all know that shit is about to go down. And it's going to go down in the next chapter and just carry on until our characters hit rock bottom. It's the Walking Dead universe, our heroes can't have too good of a time, can they?

Anyway, thank you to all my reviewers. I'm too tired to go back and list you all, but you guys know who you are and know that I love and appreciate you for it!

The next chapter will be uploaded on January 23rd, so look out for it.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it,

SophStratt.


	12. AAR

**CHAPTER ELEVEN \- AAR**

* * *

**"****Never confuse a single failure for a final defeat."**

**-F. Scott Fitzgerald**

* * *

My clothes were torn. That was the first thing I'd noticed when the shock and numbness had worn off. A whole strip of the bottom of my shirt had been ripped right off, and my jeans were shredded from the knees down like I'd walked backwards and forwards through a rose bush.

Then there was the blood. It splattered my clothes, my arms, my hands, my face; dark red, almost black, blood just seemed to be all over me. Since we decided that we would bury our dead when dawn came, I took Amy and Andrea down to the quarry, since we were covered in the most gunge, to clean up. The two blondes still seemed in a state of shock, so I helped them clean up, while Lori brought us all some clean clothes to wear.

I dropped to my knees and dunked my hair into the cold lake water, scrubbing it with some soap to get the blood out of it, and then helped Amy and Andrea do the same, before I checked them over for scratches or bites. Finding nothing, we got dressed, and headed back to what was left of the camp, a blonde walking on either side of me, gripping my hands like I was their last life line.

It was White Knight syndrome, I guess. They had latched onto me since the walkers attacked, because I had saved Amy. They hadn't left my side, clinging to each other, and to me, not letting me out of their sight. Not even when I went around to check how bad our casualties were, but we couldn't be sure until we had done a full count of the survivors, had they let go of me.

Once everyone was all grouped around, Shane and I did a head count. Morales and his family had survived, Lori, Carl, Carol and Sophia were all grouped around the fire, the kids in their mothers' laps, Jacqui, T-Dog and Glenn stood together and Jacqui seemed to be comforting the young Korean. Daryl was going round to all the dead, making sure they really were. Amy and Andrea stuck to Dale like glue once we'd gotten back, finally leaving my side, and he had an arm wrapped around both of them, while Jim watched on. Which left just Shane, Rick and I to be included in the final tally. Just nineteen people out of a group of thirty people had survived.

"We've lost eleven people and there's at least twenty eight walkers that got into camp. We lost one third of the group; eight men, three women. It was a massacre."

Rick, distressed at my words, ran his hands through his hair almost frantically, and I could see everyone looking at him, wondering what plan he was going to come up with. Even I was. When we were kids, Shane was the idea man, but Rick always came up with the plan, while I picked it apart until it was perfect. I felt like I needed orders, I needed someone to follow, because right now, everything was falling apart, and I needed something from my old life to cling onto. Rick was more than capable of becoming a leader, which was what I, and the group, sorely needed. Shane did a good job but, after beating Ed to a bloody pulp, the group was wary of him.

Rick could get us out of this. I know he could.

"Okay, okay…until dawn breaks, we need people on watch, rotating shifts every three hours. No one takes watch alone. First sign of daylight, we deal with the dead and make our plans."

We all nodded at Rick's instructions, everyone to emotionally distraught and wrung out to argue with him.

"Who gets first watch?" Shane questioned, and I immediately raised my hand.

"I'd like to stay on watch through the night actually. Everybody else can decide what shifts they want to take with me."

"I'll take first watch. Shane, can you take second?" Rick questioned, and Shane nodded, and then Rick turned his attention to Daryl. "You get third?"

Daryl scowled, but nodded, eyeing me as I loaded my rifle, wanting to be prepared in case more walkers attacked.

"Lori, is there room in your tent for two more people? Carol and Sophia haven't got anywhere to sleep. Their tent…Ed…" I trailed off, seeing Carol start to cry at the implication of my words, and Lori nodded, moving to comfort her friend. I looked at Sophia, who, other than her eyes welling up, didn't seem as distressed as I thought she'd be at the death of her father. I guess this was confirmation that Carol wasn't the only one who Ed abused, considering the small relief I could see in the young girl's face. "Everybody…rest up. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

The group dispersed, going to hide away in their tents if they were still standing or in the cars if they weren't. The kids would fall asleep, the emotional turmoil of the night would knock them right out, and the adults would be on edge, but would force themselves to sleep, if only to have some energy to deal with the dead the next day.

I climbed the ladder of the RV, Rick right behind me, and walked until I was at the far end of it, leaving the chair for the cop who ran from Atlanta to get back here. I dropped down onto my ass, my legs hanging off one side, dangling almost dangerously off the edge of the RV.

If a walker got close enough, somehow managing to get the drop on me, it could probably pull me right off the roof of the RV. I'd be so stunned when I hit the ground, it would probably get the chance to eat me before I could recover.

I brought my legs back up after that thought, scooting backwards so they were just pulled up to my chest instead. I rummaged through my backpack until I found my military issued binoculars. Pushing a tiny button on the side, I switched the lens type to night, squinting slightly until my eyes got used to the sudden green glow to everything.

I scanned the landscape in front of me. My body tensed at every strange noise until I was able to place it. A lone owl hooting at the moon. The rustle of leaves as the night chill blew through them. The sounds of quiet sobs coming from inside tents. Rick tapping his finger against his temple as he tried not to look over at me.

"Out with it, before you give yourself a brain aneurysm." I said, not turning round to look at him, glassing the surroundings still.

It was all too quiet. After all the chaos that had happened, it was the silence in the aftermath that was now bothering me.

"Shane thinks this is on me. He thinks that we left the camp vulnerable by going after Merle, and that's why we lost those people. He didn't come right out and say it, but I know he was thinking it," Rick whispered, just loud enough for me to hear him, and I finally turned round to gaze at him, hearing the emotion thick in his throat; guilt. He felt guilty. "You blame me too?"

"I don't blame you and I don't not blame you," I answered honestly, and even in the dark I saw Rick's face fall so I hurried to explain myself. "I blame you because I'm trying to find somebody to blame and it's easier to blame you, rather than accept responsibility. We let our guards down, and we paid the price for it. I'm not saying that we wouldn't have fared better with the extra muscle; our losses would have been significantly less if you were here, but…we're all to blame. Shane shouldn't try to put it all on you. It's not fair."

"Why'd you volunteer to stay up all night? You need to sleep as much as the rest of us." Rick questioned, his voice still low, and I turned away from him, lifting my binoculars back to my eyes for another scan.

"All day…I had a bad feeling. There was sign after sign that something was going to happen; the walker near camp, Shane beating Ed's face black and blue, Jim digging those damn holes…but I ignored my gut and people died. I don't want to make that mistake again." _I can't make that mistake again, _I thought. _I made Rick a promise that I would protect the group, and I didn't. People died and I broke my promise._

"There's nothing you could have done to prevent those people from dying, T. You didn't know that's what your gut was saying. You didn't know that it was walkers. No one even thinks it's your fault." Rick insisted, and I smiled a grim smile, not turning round to let him see it.

It didn't really matter what he said. I knew that part of the blame for the night's massacre was on me. I had never not listened to a gut instinct. It was what made me a good soldier. I listened to that gut feeling, and I acted on it if it felt right, and then I got the job done.

The one time I ignored it, put it down as paranoia brought about by this new, terrifying world, people died.

How could I not blame myself for my part?

Rick and the other three guys who headed into Atlanta…they played their part. They did leave us more vulnerable, more susceptible to attacks as we were four able bodied members down. The rest of us…we were stupid to think that because we felt safe, because we had a warm fire and a hot meal that things would be okay, that we could let our guards down for one night.

Out of everyone, I thought I had already learned that lesson, fighting against terrorists who would strike whenever they felt we would least expect it, but I guess I'm still learning.

"It doesn't even matter who's to blame. People died and there's nothing we can do to bring them back. We just have to move on, find somewhere new, somewhere safe. We can't stay here," I informed him, turning my whole body around this time, catching his eye, hoping he understood the seriousness, the gravity behind my words. "Staying out in the open like this…it's fucking stupid. Tonight has only helped to prove that. We need somewhere with strong fences, something defendable. Somewhere safe. The kids need a place like that, we all need a place like that. Here…this quarry, it ain't it. We need to move on."

"I know. It's just convincing the others."

"It won't take much. They're all pretty shaken up, and with all the people that died, I doubt they'll want to stick around. Plus, they listen to you. Tomorrow morning, they'll be looking to you for answers."

"I don't have any answers."

"Well…we'll wing it then. You, me and Shane…like the old days. We'll put our heads together and think this thing through, and then we'll take the plausible options to the group and we'll all decide what's best." I suggested, smiling slightly at him, though I'm half certain that it ended up as a grimace. It was hard to smile especially after everything we had just gone through. It didn't feel right.

"Yeah…you're right, T. There's a place out there for us somewhere, somewhere safe and secure, but this camp ain't it. I know we'll find it. We have to."

"With a little bit of that Grimes determination, I don't doubt that you'll find it for us."

"You've got so much faith in me. Why?" Rick questioned, and I blinked at him. _Because I love you_, is what I wanted to say, but when I opened my mouth, those weren't the words that left it. I couldn't tell him anyway. Everything was still confused with him and Lori, and after the deaths of eleven members of our new group…it wouldn't be right. So I chose four different, but no less true, words instead.

"Because I trust you."

"Always have, always will?" Rick pushed, using my own words to help him uncover just how far my loyalty to him went. It went deeper than he'd ever know, but I just finished off what was slowly becoming my catchphrase when it came to Rick Grimes.

"Whatever happens."

* * *

I kept myself awake the rest of the night, only taking a brief half hour nap when Shane insisted I get some sleep on our watch together, but I made sure that I stayed awake for my watch with Daryl. It wasn't that I didn't trust him not to mess up or kill me if I fell asleep…I just didn't know him. Morales had painted him as a loose cannon, just like his brother, so I didn't want to take any chances with him.

Dawn broke soon enough, the light helping me stay awake, and people started emerging from their tents. Lori and Carol and Miranda ushered the four kids to the RV as soon as its occupants were no longer inside, ordering them inside so they wouldn't see the adults deal with the dead. Dale took over watch, so I hurried away to find Rick.

I muttered good mornings back to anybody who murmured them to me, while my eyes searched for my best friend. I spotted him, emerging from our tent with the walkie-talkie he had risked life and limb for in his hand, still dressed in his police uniform but without the shirt. When he walked past me, a grim smile on his face, he gripped my wrist with his spare hand and tugged me along after him.

Though I knew that the others could use my help collecting and moving the bodies spotted around camp, I could almost feel desperation in Rick's grip, so I let him pull me along behind him, past everybody and onto the green field that gave us an almost picturesque view of the Atlanta skyline. A view like this was still untainted. Gazing at it, you could pretend that there were no walkers, that there were no fallen group members at our backs, that it was just us and the horizon. It was beautiful.

Rick stopped us when he felt that we would have enough privacy to make the call to Morgan. We dropped to our asses, the vibrant green grass dry as a bone underneath us, and Rick pulled me into his side and pressed down on the mike.

"Morgan…I don't know if you're out there. I don't know if you can hear me. Maybe you're listening right now. We hope so. I found others – my family, if you can believe it. My son and my ex-wife, they're alive. Thea's still with me, don't know where I'd be if she weren't. I wanted you to know that," Rick informed our mutual friend, squeezing me slightly as he talked about me. I rested my head on his shoulder, squeezing my eyes closed. I hated not knowing if they were alive; Morgan and Duane had kept me sane the month they had been with me, we were close. I wish they had come with us, instead of staying behind, but I understood Morgan's reasons. They had been, at the time, the same as mine. "There's something else you need to know. Atlanta isn't what we thought. It's not what they promised. The city is…"

Rick cut off suddenly, a look of panic on his face, and I gently tugged the walkie out of his hand, deciding to take over. I took a deep breath, before I pushed down on the mike.

"It's T. Morgan, do not enter the city. It belongs to the dead now. We're camped a few miles north-west, up by a big, abandoned rock quarry. You can see it on the map I left you in the house. I hope you come find us. But, be careful," I warned him, taking another breath before launching into the tale of last night. "Last night, walkers came out of the woods. We lost people. Watch yourself, Morgan. Take care of Duane. Always check your six and keep your eyes open. We'll try you again tomorrow at dawn. Be safe."

I let go of the call button, and we sat there for a moment, just listening to the static of the walkie before I turned it off and passed it back to him. Rick pushed himself up onto his feet first, holding out his hand to help me up. I took it, and was quickly on my feet, but when he went to walk back, I gripped his hand and stopped him.

Rick gazed at me, those usually twinkling blue eyes dulled with concern, and I sighed.

"You think they're okay?" _You think they're still alive? _

"We can only hope. Morgan's a good man, strong, and you taught Duane all you could. Hope's all we got." Rick answered, and I nodded, my eyes falling to the ground. Hope. After last night…hope seemed a little out of reach for me to fully accept his words. After last night, everything seemed a little hope_less_.

"I guess if that's all we have…it will have to be enough," I replied, lifting my eyes back to his and holding his gaze for a moment. Blue on green, a sort of charge seemed to past between our eyes, until I reluctantly turned my head away, looking back into the direction of camp. "We should get back. They'll need our help up there."

Rick nodded, and we set off, trekking back up the dirt path.

I winced, as we trudged back to camp, as I watched Daryl bury a pick-axe into the brain of one of the felled walkers, hearing the squelch as he ripped it out again. Glenn and T-Dog each moved to pick up an end, dragging the walker over to a large bonfire and throwing the body down, the flames flickering higher at the extra fuel burning.

I squeezed my eyes closed, and swallowed the lump in my throat, before opening my eyes to find two blondes suddenly in the front of me and Rick was no longer at my side. Andrea and Amy looked to be in a similar condition as they were last night; shook up and strung out, but thankful to both be alive.

I opened my mouth to ask them if they needed anything, when, without warning, I was struggling to stay upright with my arms full of a sobbing Amy. Once I'd gotten my balance, I rubbed circles on her back, trying to sooth and stop whatever emotional breakdown she was going through.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Amy cried, and when I looked to Andrea for help, she simply stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the two of us, only confusing me further. "You saved me."

"It's my job. GI Jane, remember?" I joked weakly, as the two blondes finally let me go.

"We realized that we didn't actually thank you last night for protecting us," Andrea stated, her voice strong, though her ice blue eyes were tearing up with emotion. Gratitude. Fear. Happiness. I saw all of it in her eyes. "If you hadn't been here…I'd have lost my sister."

"We don't know that. All we know is…you didn't lose her." I smiled slightly, as Amy curled herself into her sister's side, Andrea's arm slung around her waist. I doubted that Andrea was going to let the younger girl out of her sight from now on.

"We just wanted to say thanks and anything you need…come to us." Andrea smiled, taking my hand and squeezing it, and I felt a sense of comradery had formed between us, something I was grateful for. Lori had really been the only other woman I'd ever been friends with, so I was thankful now that I could add Andrea and Amy to that list. It was nice.

"Actually, there is something that I need to talk to you about," Andrea looked at me inquisitively, and I just jerked my thumb over my shoulder. "In private? Amy, why don't you go see if Lori, Miranda and Carol need help with anything?"

Amy nodded, pulling me into another hug, brief though it was, before walking away in the direction of the three mothers.

"What do you need to talk to me about?"

"Today's Amy's birthday, right?" I questioned, and surprise fell across Andrea's face, then guilt.

"After last night, I completely forgot."

"Understandable. I'm just hoping that she'll understand why we can't make that big of a deal about it," I said, before I searched my pockets for the object I was looking for. I finally found it, digging it out and holding it between us. It was a black onyx and tiger's eye bracelet. "My mother gave it to me when I joined the army. She was bit of a hippie and believed in healing crystals and all that stuff. It's real onyx and tiger's eye. The onyx is supposed to enhance determination and perseverance while the tiger's eye is supposed to promote balance and strength in difficult times. I mean, it's not as great or as pretty as that mermaid necklace you lifted from the department store, but she should have more than one gift on her birthday."

When I finished rambling, Andrea had already taken the bracelet and was smiling widely at me, something that I returned. I had always loved birthdays, even in the army, because they sucked as sometimes you couldn't be with your family or loved ones, but your brothers would make them special for you in some way, even if it was just handing over their daily cigarette rations. So I was hoping that Amy would appreciate the gift, even if it wasn't something that she would normally pick for herself at a store. It wasn't ugly. It was lovely, especially the tiger's eye pieces. I just didn't know if Amy would like it.

"If she doesn't like it…I've got a few more pieces like that in my Jeep. My mom would always stuff them into the glove box when I wasn't looking. It was her own kooky way of trying to protect me with her hippie voodoo."

"She'll love it. Thank you," Andrea replied, tugging me into her arms, squeezing me tightly in her embrace, before releasing me. "You've done so much for us already. I'll never be able to repay you for everything you've done."

"I don't want repayment, Andrea. Just stay alive and stay with us and that's all the repayment I'll accept."

Andrea nodded and headed off to find her sister, while I moved to start helping Morales and Daryl with the bodies. It was only fair that I assisted them since I helped drop most of them the night before. As I advanced on them, I briefly glanced at Jim. He didn't look so hot and seemed to be in a world of his own until Jacqui came over to help him.

"Jim? You okay?" I questioned, heading towards him, but he didn't get to answer as a suddenly angry redneck started to run his mouth off loudly.

"You reap what you sow!" Daryl said, as he and Morales dropped one of the group's fatalities on to the 'bury' pile.

"You know what? Shut up, man." Morales grunted, stepping away from the hunter, glaring at him.

"Y'all left my brother for dead! You had this coming!" Daryl shouted, getting himself everyone's attention before he stormed away, probably going to pick up his pick axe to finish destroying brains.

I rolled my eyes at his display, before I turned back to Jim, who looked a whole lot worse and I saw fresh blood seeping through his shirt. Jacqui, having crouched down to start heaving a body, also spotted it, though she was a lot more panicky than I was. Having already decided to approach this in a calm manner so I didn't spook him, I spoke in a much softer voice than the one Jacqui had adopted.

"Are you bleeding?" Jacqui asked, eyes still narrowed on the dark red blood drops seeping through the sweat stained material of his pale red shirt.

"I just got some on me from the bodies." Jim replied, as he bent over to help Jacqui move the body, his haggard breathing and his stiff movements gave away his pain.

"Jim, that blood is fresh. Were you bit?" Jim's eyes flickered over to me, and I saw how panicked and afraid he was.

"No. I got scratched during the attack." Jim protested, and Jacqui stood up.

"You got bit." Jacqui accused again, glaring down at the man who was still trying to go on as though he was perfectly fine and normal.

"I'm fine." Jim argued, but Jacqui still wouldn't let it go.

"Then show me!" Jacqui raised her voice, attracting the attention of T-Dog and Carol, who were the closest to us. I shook my head and decided to really intervene now.

"Do not cause a panic," I hissed at her, motioning for her to take a couple steps away. "Let me deal with this, okay?"

Jacqui seemed to sense that I wasn't really asking, so she stepped back, though I could see that she was tensed and practically vibrating with the need to shout about Jim's condition.

"Please don't tell." Jim begged me, and I smiled softly at him.

"Just let me see it first, and I'll decide what we should do, okay? I need to see how bad it is, Jim, alright?" I questioned and he nodded, before slowly lifting up his shirt for me. I held back my gasp as I saw the large bite wound on his upper stomach. I ran my finger underneath the wound, and he winced at the pain of it. Leaning in to get a closer look at it, I could already see that it was infected. The skin around the actual bite was puckered and red and clearly painful to the touch. I straightened up, and motioned for him to lower his shirt. "I'm sorry, Jim. I'm so sorry."

"Don't tell, please?" Jim repeated, but it seemed Jacqui couldn't contain herself any longer.

"A walker got him. A walker bit Jim!" Jacqui hollered, and it was like last night all over again in terms of the chaos that was trying to ensue.

The men had all rushed over, trying to box Jim in so they could grab him and see the wound themselves, and the women were all huddling together like he was a real threat. He wouldn't be a threat until he turned. Seeing how frightened Jim was, especially with them all shouting at him, I sighed, un-holstered my Glock and fired a round into the sky to shut everybody up.

It worked quite well.

"Now that I have your attention…I've already seen the bite." I announced to them, and was going to explain Jim's condition but before I could, Dixon had already cut me off.

"And you weren't gonna say nothin'? You stupid?" He snarled, and I smirked at him.

"Need I remind you which of us is holding a loaded weapon right now, Dixon…one of us should be careful about handing out insults, shouldn't they? Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted…I was going to say that Jim _is_ bitten, but he's sick, and he's scared. Let's all give him some space, and figure out what we're going to do from here," I stated, leaving no room for argument. "Jim, honey, go take a seat over there by the RV, while the others and I _calmly_ discuss how we're going to help you."

Jim nodded, following my instructions, trying not to wince or grimace as everyone hurried out of his way, like Moses parting the Red Sea. I stepped a little further in the opposite direction with everybody following me, until we were just out of earshot from the sick man.

"I say we put a pick axe in his head and be done with it." Daryl suggested, and I glared at him, angry at his callousness. Jim was still human, still alive, and he deserved to be treated that way.

"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane questioned, incredulous at the hunter's lack of compassion. Jim was a member of our group, he was a friend, and Daryl was talking about killing him as though he were talking about changes in the weather.

"Yeah. I'd thank you while you did it."

"I hate to say it, I never thought I would, but maybe Daryl's right." Dale stated, and I stared at him with wide eyes. How could he say that?

"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog," Rick practically snarled, continuing over Dale's protests. "He's a sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

"The line's pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers or them to be." Daryl voiced, and I shook my head.

"What if we can get him help?" I inputted, looking over at Jim, who was watching us all intently. I tried to muster a smile for him, but I don't think it helped calm his fears none.

"We heard the CDC was working on a cure." Rick added, backing me up, resting his hand on the small of my back as he tried to comfort me.

In the army, on the front line, things similar to this would happen all the time. I'd seen so many men begging for death, having lost limbs to bombs, or were so badly shot up and injured that there was nothing anyone could do for them but wait for them to die...Jim wasn't those men. He was clinging to life, he wanted to live still, and here we were, allowing a discussion to be had over ending that life.

"I heard that too. I heard a lot of things before the world went to hell." Shane dismissed, but Rick kept on with his train of thought.

"What if the CDC's still up and running?" Rick questioned, his eyes on Shane. I tore my gaze from Jim to look at our best friend as well, seeing the disbelief there. He thought there was no hope for Jim. I could see it in his eyes, and, looking around, he wasn't the only one.

"That is a stretch right there."

"Why? The CDC, along with the army, they have protocols for disasters like this. If there's any government left, any structure at all, the CDC would be the first thing they'd protect. It's our best shot at getting Jim some help." I informed them, crossing my arms over my chest, strumming my fingers against my lips, almost defensive at the look in Shane's eyes.

"Think of it, Shane. Shelter, protection…" Rick trailed off, and Shane quickly interjected.

"You want those things, all right. I do too, okay? Now, if they exist, they're at the army base, Fort Benning. T's a soldier. She can get us there and she can get us in." Shane explained, pointing at me as though I could help him make his point.

"That's true. I trained at Benning, I knew guys stationed at Benning. If, and I mean if, we could get there…I have the connections and the rank to get in. It's just getting there. That's the problem."

"It _is_ 100 miles in the opposite direction." Lori agreed with me. The roads, while being mostly empty now, would be a lot harder to travel. There could be traffic snarls or walker herds or any number of things that could cut us off on the way to Benning, and we wouldn't have enough gas to travel back to the CDC if it failed.

"Right, but it's away from the hot zone. Listen to me, if it's operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there."

"The military were on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun. We've all seen that." Rick protested against Shane's idea, and I felt a little sting of hurt at Rick's underlying point. The military were incapable of stopping this outbreak or containing it, according to him. Yet he hadn't seen what it had been like. We were fighting against an enemy that we hadn't really known how to kill, and when we did…their numbers were too great and ours had dwindled down too low to really defend anything.

"Ouch. Brushing that stinger off…Benning is a great idea, but the CDC is Jim's only shot at staying alive, but on the other hand, Benning could be _our_ one shot for survival. There are too many variables to consider, and not enough time."

"You go looking for aspirin, do what you need to do," Dixon said, and everyone turned to look at him. My gut flared up and I took a step towards Jim, my hand on my gun in its holster, preparing myself for anything. Dixon paced backwards, before gripping his pick axe in both hands and charged at Jim. "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!"

I ran in front of him, as Rick held the redneck at gunpoint from behind. I stared him down, not blinking, as I stood between him and Jim. He still had the pick axe raised, but he made no move to swing it. The gun behind him, and me in front of him, seemed to make him pause.

"We don't kill the living." Rick declared, his voice unwavering, even though I saw the slight panic in his eyes because of the danger I had put myself in. Shane was standing at my side now, shotgun in hand and his police cap resting low in his head, and I felt a little safer, for myself and for Jim.

"That's funny coming from a man who just put a gun to my head." Daryl quipped.

"We may disagree on some things, but not on this," Shane jerked his head, motioning to the weapon still in Daryl's hands. "You put it down. Go on."

Huffing, Daryl threw down the pick axe, before storming off. I let out a sigh of relief, before turning to Jim and gesturing for him to follow at the same time Rick told him to get up and follow him.

"Where are you taking me?" Jim questioned, as I took his left hand and Rick took his right arm, both of us steering him and supporting him.

"Somewhere safe."

* * *

**A/N:**

Hey, guys!

Here's an update for you and I'm on time! A miracle!

So in this chapter, we're dealing with the aftermath of the walker ambush from the previous chapter. The direct aftermath and the events that take place for the beginning of the next morning. So Thea feels responsible for the amount of people in the group who had died, because, being a soldier and having served in Afghanistan and Iraq she knows that in hostile territory she always has to be aware, and she feels like she let her guard down. Obviously, those people would have died anyway, because the whole group as a whole were woefully unprepared for a walker attack, but she's kind of a martyr - she has a lot of survivor's guilt that I'm gonna reveal in a later chapter, but when people die in proximity to her, she takes it on herself.

And it's Amy's birthday! Happy 24th to Amy! I'm honestly glad I kept her alive in this one. In each of my Walking Dead series, I'm going to be keeping a select couple of the deceased Team Family members alive to change the TV plot up. And in this one, Amy is the lucky duck who I saved from being chomped. I'm so excited because I've got big plans for sweet Amy and I can't wait for you guys to read them!

Oh, and Jim's bit! Which sucks, obviously, because I quite liked Jim. The poor guy suffered so much, but Thea and Rick have his back. Thea's kinda a sucker for the 'weak' and 'vulnerable', which was another reason she took on Ed for Carol. Thea and Carol will be quite close as the story goes on, so I'm trying to sew the seeds now.

Anyway I want to thank all of my favoriters, followers and reviewers! You guys are why I keep updating, seriously, because it gives me that little kick up the arse I need to do it when I know someone is reading :)

So thanks to the reviewers;

**ChibiAiko1987, XLady-ZoZo-The-Pict-PrincessX, lovinurbuks, klandgraf2007, Morrowsong, yggdrasil001, **and **Guest**.

The next update will be **February 13th** so mark it down on your calendars!

I hope you enjoyed this new chapter and thanks for reading, guys!

* * *

S. A. L. Stratton


	13. Expectant

**Chapter Twelve \- Expectant**

* * *

**"****Anger is like fire.**

**It burns all clean."**

**-Maya Angelou**

* * *

Rick, Shane and I were re-digging the graves that Jim had started the day before. Eleven holes for eleven people. I don't know how he knew, or how he had dreamt something so accurate, but the thought alone that he had predicted exactly how many people were going to die was terrifying.

I forced my shovel in to the dirt, before heaving it up and out of the way, when I heard Rick's sigh of irritation. Shane hadn't spoken a word to either of us since we started, though I guess it was more for Rick's benefit than mine. Shane and I had no problems, but since Shane hinted that Rick was to blame for last night, it was clear that they did.

Rick slammed his shovel into the dirt, and then straightened up.

"Say it."

Shane and I both stopped shoveling, breathing a little harder from our efforts, and I could feel the sticky sensation of perspiration clinging to my body. Rick and Shane were staring each other down, no malice or anger in their expressions, but I realized that I had unwittingly put myself in between them.

"Okay. I'm thinking if you'd stayed here, if you'd looked after your own…Instead, you went off. You took half our manpower with you. I'm thinking maybe our losses wouldn't have been so bad, okay?" Shane confessed, and I looked at Rick nervously. He had been worried about this. That all the guilt, all the blame was going to be dropped down at his feet.

"If we hadn't gone off and brought those guns back when we did, I think our losses would have been a lot worse. Maybe the entire camp."

"I can't believe this," I muttered, earning confused looks from both men. I shot each of them a sharp look before I explained myself. "People died and you are out here playing the blame game, trying to shift your guilt onto each other. Grow the fuck up. Jesus Christ!"

I was saved from having to listen to them argue further, or turn their childish anger on to me, by Daryl backing up to the grave site in his truck, the bodies all piled up in the truck bed. He climbed out and walked over to us, as we continued to dig a little more, the argument not forgotten but pushed aside for the time being.

"I still think it's a mistake not burning these bodies. It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all, wasn't that the idea?" Daryl commented, and I straightened up, seeing the rest of the group walking up, ready to help with the burials and pay their respects to the dead.

"At first." Shane replied, grunting a little as he lifted up a heavy shovelful of dirt.

"The Chinaman gets all emotional, says it's not the thing to do, we just follow him along? These people need to know who the hell's in charge here, what the rules are." Daryl ranted, though he had a point. We came from a society with structure, with laws and consequences if those laws were broken…now, there was nothing.

"There are no rules." Rick stated, about to turn and continue digging when Lori cut in, stopping at my side with Carl right behind her.

"Well, that's a problem. We haven't had a minute to hold on to anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn and we need to bury our dead," Lori declared, her voice thick with emotion. I nodded, reaching out and taking her hand, squeezing it. "That's what people do."

* * *

The burials went quickly. I stood beside Andrea and Amy, the latter in between us gripping our hands as she cried softly. Carol shed a few tears as Daryl and Shane lowered Ed's mauled and mangled body into his grave, but I couldn't muster an ounce of sympathy for Ed Peletier, just for his wife and daughter. They may have been victimized by him for so many years, but they had some love for him as husband and father.

We had a moment of silence for our fallen friends, before we all started to shuffle back into the main camp, except Daryl and Shane who stayed to fill in the graves. I walked hand in hand with Carl, who held his mother's hand as well, down the dirt path back to camp. Rick walked closely behind us, silent until he was certain that we were a good enough distance away from everybody that he could finally air his thoughts.

"Burying other people is bad enough, but the thought of one of us…" Rick murmured, getting cut off by Lori, who was still crying a little, who hushed him. She wiped at her face with her free hand, catching the last tears, and pulled Carl a little closer to her.

"Are we safe now, Dad? Now that we're all together?" Carl questioned, and Rick crouched down so that they were on the same level, and stared at his son with their mirrored blue eyes.

"I won't leave again. I promise you that. Not for anything," Rick promised, and Carl nodded, tearing up, but trying to hold those tears at bay. "Now give us a chance to discuss some things, okay?"

"Come on, kiddo. I need your help with something anyway." I said, about to tug him away from his parents so they could have their privacy, when Rick stopped me by grabbing my free hand.

"I need to talk to you too." Rick said, and I nodded, letting go of Carl.

"All right…Carl, go hang out with Carol and Sophia until I come claim you. I still need your help, okay?"

Carl nodded, and hurried away, leaving the three of us behind. I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for Rick to speak, Lori mimicking my stance.

"Shane blames me for not being here. Do you?" Rick asked Lori. We had already discussed where I stood on the matter, my answer being that we were all at fault. Lori hesitated to answer, which annoyed Rick, since he knew what her pause meant and he rushed to defend himself. "We got guns now. We're stronger."

"And we have fewer people. That makes us weaker. Do you want me to say I think you were right? I understand that." Lori paused, wetting her lips as she thought her next words through. "All I can say is that neither one of you was entirely wrong. It's the best I can do right now."

"What about the CDC? You both had comments, but you didn't make it clear where you stood on the matter." Rick questioned, and I looked down at my feet. It was a tough call. Benning meant more guns, more food, more protection…but the CDC meant medicine and possibly a cure for Jim. Both sounded pretty good in theory, it was just the other variables that were keeping me on the fence. "We're at the ragged edge here. We need relief, we got a sick man who needs help. I don't know why can't people see that?"

"Well, look at their faces. Look at mine," Lori said, grinning manically. "We're all terrified. If one of us, even if it was T, suggested, based on a hunch, that we head toward that city…you'd have no part of it. Tell us something with certainty."

"Rick and Shane are idiots," I joked, trying to diffuse the tension, and it worked, as Lori chuckled and Rick rolled his eyes at me. "Look, Rick, I'm on the fence, because…we don't have a solid plan. We haven't sat down, discussed each idea, talked through the many variables and decided which one is better for us. I want to help Jim as much as you do…I just don't want to lose anybody else on a pipe dream. I can't place a bet on something when the outcome is too uncertain."

"What about on me? Bet on me, T," Rick pleaded, and I tore my gaze away from him, sighing. I was not going to let his puppy dog eyes crumble my resolve to be diplomatic about this situation. I wasn't. Definitely wasn't. Maybe wasn't. Completely was. I glanced back at him, and he smiled at me, like he knew he'd won me over. "You still with me?"

"Always have been, always will be. Whatever happens," I uttered, glaring at him, as I stewed in my defeat. "But, we're still talking this through. I will back you up, I will sell the CDC, but if the majority votes against us, we listen to what they want. Those are my terms, Grimes. Take 'em or leave 'em."

"Sounds fair." Rick agreed, and I grinned.

"Of course it does. I said it. Now, you two should go see how Jim's doing. I'm gonna go steal your son and use him as child labor." I joked, and Lori just rolled her eyes at me, waving me off as I started down the dirt path ahead of them.

Once back in the main camp, it didn't take me long to find my new worker. He was sitting with Sophia, Louis and Eliza just outside the RV, and they all looked up at me as I approached.

"You kids okay?" I questioned, and they all nodded.

"Carol is inside the RV, looking after Jim." Carl informed me, and I nodded.

"Okay. So you kids are just sitting out here doing nothing?" They all nodded in reply, though looked at me warily, as though I was going to tell them off. "How about you all come help me with my car…in exchange for something sweet?"

The kids all perked up at that, jumping to their feet, looking at me expectantly.

"What kind of sweet?"

"I have junk food in my backpack…it's yours, if you help me out," I sang the last few words, earning myself a few grins. They all nodded eagerly and I gestured to them to follow me. "Okay, so let's get to it. Treats after."

After giving the Jeep a tune-up, I gave the kids their cake bars, letting them fight it out amongst themselves for the one they wanted; chocolate brownie, crunchy peanut butter, chocolate chip, or peanut butter buzz, as we sat down around the small, crackling fire. I watched Lori sharpening the end of a small, thin branch to a point, and wondered if the discussion I had seen her share with Shane had gone badly. Amy and Andrea smiled at me as I took the empty seat next to them, and a grin spread across my lips as I saw Amy wearing my mom's bracelet. She mouthed a thank you to me, and I nodded in return, before focusing on Rick and Shane, who had gone scouting in the woods with Dale, as they approached us all.

"I've, uh…I've been thinking about Rick's plan," Shane announced, and I glanced at Rick, with an arched brow, surprised that he had managed to change the stubborn deputy's mind. "Look, there are no…There are no guarantees either way, as T said earlier, and I'll be the first one to admit she's right. I've known this man a long time. I trust his instincts. I saw the most important thing is we need to stay together. So…those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?"

"Sir, yes, sir." I replied, surprised at how this had gone. I was sure that we would have a fight on our hands when it came to changing Shane's mind from Fort Benning, and it made me curious as to what had happened in the woods between them to make Shane reconsider.

Whatever it was, I was glad for it. I knew that I'd end up following Rick to the CDC no matter what, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that meant turning my back on Shane. Shane was my best friend too, and even if I didn't have romantic feelings for him, like I did Rick, he was still equally as important to me.

So I was thankful that he had made the decision to come with us, because that way meant I didn't have to choose between them.

* * *

Coasting along the 85, I found myself wishing that I hadn't all but shoved Rick into Carol's car and that I'd asked Andrea and Amy to ride with me instead of with T-Dog. Driving in the isolation of the Jeep, it was hard to not let my mind travel to what was troubling me. After the attack two nights ago, we had lost eleven members of our group.

This morning, we lost four more. Morales and his family decided to leave to go find their family members in Birmingham. It was sad to see them go; Morales was a good man, determined and strong, a good protector and his wife and kids were much beloved by the other families in our group too. It was hard, because, I knew, in the back of my mind, I'd always be wondering if they made it or not, or if they ended up like Jim's family; ripped apart and devoured.

A honk pulled me out of my head, and I focused on the road, noticing that Shane was slowing down in front of me. The RV had stopped, and I could see the grey-white smoke billowing out from it from where I was. I pulled over with the rest of them, climbing out my Jeep and heading towards the front of the line, where everybody was crowding around the front of the RV.

"I told you we'd never get far on that hose. I said I needed the one from the cube van." Dale complained to Rick, who ran his hand through his hair in frustration before placing his sheriff's hat back on his head.

"Can you jerry-rig it?" Rick questioned, and Dale sighed.

"That's all it's been so far. It's more duct tape than hose. And I'm out of duct tape." Dale explained, and I shook my head, turning to Shane, who was scanning the horizon up ahead for somewhere we could find a van or a car we could replace the hose with, or even more duct tape.

"I see something up ahead. Gas station if we're lucky." Shane announced, but before anybody could volunteer to go check it out, Jacqui burst out of the RV, where she had been tending to Jim, with a panicked look on her face.

"Y'all, Jim, it's bad! I don't think he can take any more." Jacqui informed them, concern, sadness and worry oozing out of her body, before she stepped back and headed back in to the RV, just as quickly as she had left it.

"Rick, you wanna hold down the fort? I'll drive ahead, see what I can bring back." Shane volunteered, and before I could, T-Dog volunteered himself as Shane's second.

"Yeah, I'll come along too and I'll back you up."

"Y'all keep your eyes open now. We'll be right back." Shane instructed everybody, and I nodded, giving him a meaningful glance. _Stay safe. _Shane smiled slightly at me, and gave me a nod in return, just as Rick grabbed my hand.

"I need you to come with me." He said simply, as he tugged me into the RV behind him, giving Jacqui a nod as we swept past her into the back.

I had to bite back a gasp. Jim looked bad, so much worse than the last I'd seen him, and, worst still, he looked like he was in so much pain that even the smallest movement was unbearable to him. His skin was paler than I'd ever seen it, sweat running down his face, and his eyes seemed as though they were struggling to focus. The fever was definitely taking its toll.

"We'll be back on the road soon." Rick spoke softly, and I tried my best to smile for the ailing man, despite the fact, deep down in my stomach, I knew Jim wouldn't make it to the CDC, at least not alive.

"Oh, no. Christ! My bones," Jim moaned, and I could hear the pain in his voice. "My bones are like glass. Every little bump…God, this ride's killing me! Leave me here. I'm done. Just leave me. I want to be with my family."

A few tears managed to escape the barriers I had attempted to build. Jim wanted to die. He was in so much pain, he felt so hopeless, that he wanted it to be over. Without even seeing what the CDC had to offer him, Jim had accepted his fate and wanted his pain to end.

Rick crouched down by Jim's bedside, while I sat on the very edge, trying not to jostle him too much, and took his hand, squeezing very gently so I didn't hurt him. I smiled at him sadly, wiping my face with my spare hand, and Jim held my gaze as Rick spoke to him.

"They're all dead," Rick reminded him, his voice as gentle as he could make it. He didn't want to hurt Jim by reminding him that, but he wanted Jim to know what it was he was saying. "I don't think you know what you're asking. The fever. You've been delirious more often than not."

"I know. Don't you think I know?" Jim questioned, turning his eyes away from mine and connecting them to Rick's baby blues. He struggled to push himself upright, so I helped him, not even caring that I got his fever sweat on my hands. "I'm clear now. In five minutes, I may not be. Rick, Thea, I know what I'm asking. I want this. Leave me here. Now that's on me. Okay? My decision. Not your failure."

Rick watched our sick friend grimly, torn between not wanting to give up on him and respecting his wishes. It was Jim's decision; his life, his choice, but it was hard, because we wanted to keep fighting for him, but we couldn't if he didn't want us to. Rick nodded, and made to leave, but paused when he noticed that I wasn't following.

"I'm gonna stay here, keep Jim company. You talk to the others," I said, without looking at him, keeping my eyes on Jim, a faint smile tugging on my lips. Rick must've nodded or accepted my answer, because I heard his footsteps moving through the RV away from us. When I heard him call the others back over, I gripped Jim's hand a little tighter, averting my eyes from his. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"All day I had a bad feeling. It started when the guys left and just grew bigger and bigger as the day drew on. When you dug those holes…I knew it, I knew something bad was going to happen, but I ignored my gut and told myself that I was just paranoid because of everything that I'd gone through," I shook my head, a lone tear falling down my face. "Maybe if I had listened to it, you wouldn't have gotten bit."

"I'm okay, Thea. I'm okay with this," Jim insisted, lifting his free hand to push my chin up and force me to look at him. "I want to be with my family again."

I cracked a smile, and placed a kiss to the back of his hand.

"You're a brave man, Jim. Maybe one of the bravest men I've known." I told him, and he smiled slightly, though I could tell even that simple movement was pained.

"Thank you." Jim replied, and I shook my head.

"No, thank you."

Rick and Shane came in after that, telling Jim that they were going to move him outside, so I got out of the way, standing and waiting outside the RV with everybody else.

Jacqui seemed the most affected by Jim's decision, with the tears running in an almost endless stream down her face, so I took her hand, trying to comfort her a little bit as we followed Rick, Shane and Jim up a little hill, where they sat him down, resting his back against a tree.

"Hey, another damn tree!" Jim chuckled weakly and I smiled in spite of myself.

"Hey, Jim. I mean, you know it doesn't need to be this." Shane reminded him, but Jim shook his head slightly, shooting Shane's suggestion down.

"No. It's good. The breeze feels nice."

"Okay. All right." Shane said, patting him on the shoulder, before moving away.

Jacqui squeezed my hand before releasing it, moving forward to say her goodbyes to the newest edition to our list of losses. Jacqui crouched down in front of him and smiled widely, though it was still a sad smile, and gently brushed her fingers down his forearm.

"Just close your eyes, sweetie. Don't fight." Jacqui instructed, her voice soft and shaking with her grief, and she pressed a kiss to his cheek, before standing up and moving down the hill.

I smiled at Jim, before following her down. I'd said all that needed to be said, and decided to check that the RV was ready to go. The engine cover was still open when I got to it, and I inspected the job that Dale and Glenn had done on the hose. Part of being a part of the army was making sure ALL of your equipment was up to standards, including your assigned vehicle. I'd gotten quite good at the maintenance of my Humvee, so I was certain that Dale and Glenn's work would last us to the CDC at least.

I closed it up for Dale, just as they all came down the hill, leaving Jim at peace where he sat.

We all got into our separate vehicles, glancing up the hill as the caravan of cars moved on once more, leaving behind another fallen comrade.

I couldn't help but wonder how many more people we'd lose before we found a real place to survive in.

How many more friends could we lose before the group fell apart completely?

* * *

We came to a stop when the RV encountered a road block, just meters from the CDC, and the sight we were welcomed with was far from encouraging. I pulled on my backpack, made sure my two Glocks were loaded, that I had my rifle slung across my shoulder and I had extra ammo, before I climbed out my Jeep at the end of the line and rushed forward to the front.

Rick and I took point as we led the group past all the rotting corpses strewn across the ground in front of the CDC building, the only sounds heard were the buzzing of flies and people in the group coughing and spluttering from breathing in the rancid smell of decomposing flesh.

My eyes scanned the area, watching for walkers, while Rick and Shane hurried everybody forward as we made it to the doors. The light was starting to fade, so we needed to get inside as quickly as possible, especially this close to the city. We practically jogged to the nearest door, and I moved to the back of the group, keeping my eyes open for any enemies while Shane and Rick tried to open the shutter on the door.

"There's nobody here." T-Dog lamented, and I shook my head, turning round to glare at him for giving up so easily.

"Then why are these shutters down? They're protecting somebody." I hissed, trying to stay quiet, just as Daryl and I both noticed a couple of walkers headed towards the group. I almost gasped aloud as I recognized one of the walkers in army uniform. I didn't remember his name, but I remembered going through training with him. He was quiet, never said more than a few words to anybody, and now he was dead. I brushed the irrational guilt away, before aiming my gun at him, before deciding against it and switching my aim to the civilian dressed walker.

"Walkers!" Daryl announced, before firing his crossbow at the soldier, while I shot the other one, thankful for the silencers on my guns. Didn't need to attract more of those god awful things. "You led us into a graveyard!"

"He made a call!" Dale defended Rick before I could.

"It was the wrong damn call." Daryl argued, and I felt like shooting him in the foot or something, anything to distract the idiot from his fucking tirade that would only end up bringing more walkers down on top of us. Everybody was panicked enough without the fucking redneck losing his cool.

"You shut up," Shane growled, storming over to Daryl and pushing him back from Rick a little. "You hear me? Shut up!"

He turned round just as quickly as he had pounced on Daryl, and pointed at Rick.

"Rick, this is a dead end."

"Where are we going to go?" Carol questioned, trying to get some answers as the children cowered against their mothers.

I stepped forward to the front of the group, moving to Shane and Rick, inspecting the shutter doors and around them for anything that could help us get in. I tuned out the noise behind me, my eyes fixating on a camera just above the door, until I felt somebody start tugging me backwards, and then the camera moved.

The camera had followed our movements.

"WAIT!" I called, making everybody stop moving. "The camera! It moved!"

"I saw it too!" Rick backed me up, but the others weren't so quick to believe us.

"You imagined it." Dale explained it away.

"It moved. It moved." Rick repeated and we stepped closer to the doors, Shane on our heels.

"Rick, T, its dead, man. It's an automated device. Its gears, okay? They're just winding down. Come on!" Shane hissed, grabbing Rick's arm as he tried to pull him away. Andrea stepped forward to grab hold of me but I shrugged her off, stepping closer to the camera.

"Hello? I am Sergeant Thea Winters, of the US Special Forces. Please help us! I have thirteen civilians who need shelter!" When nothing happened, I kicked the door, pounding on it with my fist. "I know you're in there! I know you can hear me! I need you to open these doors! Please! I need to get my people to safety! We're desperate! I've got children here, men, women, no food, and hardly any gas left! There's nowhere else to go!"

Rick had pushed free of Shane now, and was right beside me, with Lori and Andrea still trying to push us away, pull us back.

"If you don't let us in, you're killing us! Please!" Rick shouted, just as Shane shoved Lori towards me and wrapped his arm around Rick's chest, pulling him away by force, while Lori and Andrea did the same to me. "You're killing us! You're killing us!"

Just as Lori, Andrea and Shane had managed to get Rick and I away from the doors and the camera, we were seemingly blinded by a sudden light.

Whoever was inside, whoever had been watching us through the camera, had decided to let us in.

The doors were open.

* * *

**A/N:**

*slowly lifts pops her head out* Hey, guys!

I just wanna say that I know I'm a sucky updater. I really am. I give myself these deadlines to try to motivate myself, but it never works and I just end up letting you guys down and it's not fair. So I've stopped doing that. No more deadlines!

But on a brighter note, here is the new chapter and I also have some great news! I've officially started writing my first novel that I hope to have published by this time next year! It's called "Way Past Saving" and is set in a post-apocalyptic 2015. Though, there will be no zombies. Gotta write something different for a change! But it's gonna be a lot of fun and I'm writing it for NaNoWriMo this year, so I'll hopefully have most of it done by the end of this month. Fingers crossed!

I'm really thankful to all my readers for still sticking with me all this time. Hopefully, I'll have some more news to share with you all and I hope you'll stick with me for all of that too!

Thank you to all the reviewers. Normally I'd name you all but I've just typed this all up on my phone because my computer has decided to play up and I've been here for what feels like years so I can't be bothered right now, but I will sing your praises on the next update, which will be soon! I promise!

Thank you guys so much,

I love you so much!

* * *

S.A.L. Stratton

* * *

**P.S** how awesome is The Walking Dead Season 7 shaping up to be? Two episodes in and I'm already buzzing for the rest of the season! Although, I have spent two weeks mourning Abe and Glenn. But King Ezekiel and Shiva were awesome, in my opinion. And Jeffrey Dean Morgan smashed (pun regrettably intended) it as Negan!


	14. Bogey

**Chapter Thirteen – Bogey**

* * *

**"****Although the world is full of suffering,**

**It is full also of the overcoming of it."**

**-Helen Keller**

* * *

_Thump. Thump thump. Thump thump thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump thump. Thump. Thump thump._

_They were still out there. The patients from the hospital. The dead, or undead. Walkers. Walkers sounded better. Everybody was dead. The army squadron in King County had been overrun, and they were all dead. Everybody, except me._

_I was just stuck in an abandoned tank with walkers everywhere and I couldn't decide if this was the better fate. I'd already been in here two days, and I was already starting to lose my mind. The thumping hadn't stopped once. Not once. And it was driving me crazy._

_Thump thump. _

_As soon as I had practically thrown myself into the tank, I had closed all the hatches and did an inventory of what I had in my backpack. A couple of energy bars, a half-empty magazine for my Glock and a half-filled canteen of water. That's all I had to survive on until the walkers decided I wasn't worth their trouble and moved on to find another source of food. _

_All I had to do was stay quiet and they'd leave, which meant quieting my breathing, stopping my hysterics and halting the nervous breakdown that I was currently on the cusp of. It just didn't make any sense to me. _

_How were they coming back? These people were dying and then returning to life, after being bitten by anybody infected. _

_How was that possible? _

_How were there undead people trying to punch their way through an armored tank to satisfy their unquenchable hunger by ripping into my flesh? _

_Thump. Thump._

_I tried not to panic as the thumps continued. They couldn't break through the tank walls. They were just reanimated humans. A human can't punch through the reinforced metal of a tank, so an undead human certainly couldn't. I just had to wait it out a little bit more. They'd leave eventually. Preferably before I eat the last of my provisions and drink the last of my water. _

_Thump._

_I fell asleep for a while. Had to. I needed to get out of the tank and I needed my strength if I had to battle the walkers to get away. _

_The thumping had stopped when I woke up. Completely stopped. I waited an hour for it to start up again, but it didn't. When I was sure that it was safe to open a hatch, I did. I peered out of the top hatch, only opening it enough to give me a clear view. I saw nothing, except the littering of permanently dead bodies and abandoned military vehicles. _

_Cautiously, I pushed the hatch open further and had to blink rapidly at the sudden harsh sunlight. _

_It was almost blinding._

* * *

The light that came from the now open shutters was almost blinding, my eyes having to blink rapidly until they were used to it. For a moment, we all stared at the open door, like we couldn't believe that it was open. That we had been saved.

Until we did. We rushed forward, Rick taking point, Shane and I covering the middle and Daryl protecting our flank with his crossbow.

"Hello?" Rick called out, as we all stepped inside, wary of the fact we couldn't see anybody around. After all, somebody had opened the door. So, where were they? "Hello?"

"Watch the doors. Watch for walkers." I ordered, gesturing for Glenn to turn around and aim his rifle at the door, while I covered Rick and Shane. Dale and T-Dog covered Glenn, but it all fell apart when they heard the cocking of another gun.

One that didn't belong to us.

A figure, clearly male, stepped into the shadows, armed with what looked like a high-powered rifle, and we all tightened our grips on our own guns, tense at the new arrival. I was more ill at ease with the fact I couldn't see him properly, so I couldn't read his body language, see if he was friend or foe.

"Anybody infected?"

"One of our group was. He didn't make it." I informed him, another wave of sadness hitting me as I thought about Jim, and how we left him behind. I know it was what he wanted, but I still feel guilty.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" The man questioned, stepping further out of the shadows, and I was grateful that I could see him better. He was a middle-aged man, possibly in his early forties, with short, light blonde hair, a slight paunch to his stomach and was standing at least at 6 foot 3 inches.

"A chance." Rick answered honestly, and I could almost sense the fear and hope, that was exuding from all of us, mingling together to become desperation. If he made us turn around and leave…I couldn't know what we'd do.

"That's asking an awful lot these days." The man replied, taking another couple steps forward, probably sensing that, despite our numbers, we wouldn't be a threat to him.

"We know." I stated, and we all waited with bated breath to see if he would give us that chance. The chance to live in a secure place without fear of walkers or early deaths. The chance to find a new home that was safe, where we could be happy.

I watched him scan the group, eyeing all of us individually, probably trying to see if we were lying about being infected or not, or if we would turn out to be a threat. Eventually, his eyes returned to Rick and I, and I tried to keep a stoic face, tried not to give him a pleading glance, but he must've remembered how desperate we sounded outside, because he nodded at us.

"You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission." He said finally, and we breathed a sigh of relief.

"We can do that." Rick agreed, and the man lowered his rifle, and I felt more at ease, knowing that he was a blue, not a red.

"You got stuff to bring in, do it now. Once the door closes, it stays closed."

We nodded, turning around and Rick, Shane, Daryl, Glenn and I rushed out the door again, silently taking down a couple of walkers who got in our way, running to our separate cars. We grabbed bags for everybody, and I took my weapons bag along with my duffel.

His last statement hadn't hit me right. _Once the door closes, it stays closed._ What did that mean exactly? That if we wanted to, we couldn't leave once he closed that door? It made me wary enough to want the extra protection.

We raced back to the doors, T-Dog and Dale closing them behind us with the man locking the shutters down and cutting off the power to the entrance.

"Rick Grimes." Rick held out his hand, and I had a flash of déjà vu from when we met Glenn.

"Dr. Edwin Jenner."

* * *

Jenner led us to an elevator, explaining that all the habitable areas available where near the labs, and we all piled in. I wasn't comfortable with being underground, which is where these types of labs were located, with a stranger, especially my group being underground with a stranger, but I'd give Jenner the benefit of the doubt until we got more answers.

"Do doctors always go around packing heat like that?" Daryl questioned, and I half-smiled at him. Thank God for Daryl Dixon and his paranoia reminding us to be just a little bit on edge around the stranger.

"Well, there was plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself."

"Smart." I quipped, earning Jenner's attention and gaze. He nodded at me.

"But you all look harmless enough, Sergeant," Jenner cracked a smile, looking down at Carl who stood beside Lori and in front of me and Andrea. "Except you. I'll have to keep my eye on you."

Carl smiled and I nudged his shoulder with my elbow, smirking down at him.

It was only a few moments more, before the elevator came to a stop and Jenner led us down a rather clinical looking hallway. It was almost as white and pristine as a hospital ER, you know, before the apocalypse came and the hospitals were the first things to go.

"Are we underground?" Carol asked Jenner.

"You claustrophobic?" He retorted, and I glanced around Rick's shoulder to look at the mother of one, who looked a little nervous and uncomfortable.

"A little."

"Try not to think about it."

The hallway led into a dark, but quite large room and I squinted around to see what was inside it. From what I could see, there were desks littered in the center, but other than that, there didn't seem to be much in the room. Maybe this was the command post of the CDC, where the doctors would communicate with each other and discuss progress made in designing cures and other medical jargon.

"Vi, bring up the lights in the big room," Jenner said aloud, and I gave him a worried look as he seemed to be talking to thin air, until the lights came on and realized that the building was controlled by some sort of computer based intelligence. He paused a moment, turning his head to glance at us. "Welcome to Zone Five."

"Where is everybody?" Rick questioned, we all followed him down towards the desks, which I could now see had small computers on them. "The other doctors? The staff?"

"I'm it," Jenner replied, and I saw the sadness in his eyes, which I'm sure reflected the disappointment in ours. One man wasn't what we came to the CDC to find. "It's just me here."

"What about the person you were speaking with? Vi?" Lori pressed, not wanting to believe that he was alone, that he was the only person we'd found here, like we all did.

"Vi, say hello to our guests. Tell them welcome." Jenner instructed, and everybody looked at him skeptically, until an electronic voice spoke via the speakers.

"_Hello, guests. Welcome."_

"I'm all that's left. I'm sorry."

Everyone was stunned into silence at that news, and I could see that Jenner did feel bad about having to break that news to us, so I cleared my throat and tried to make him feel a little better.

"I think I'll withhold my forgiveness until after you've taken my blood." I joked, making Jenner chuckle and shake his head.

"This way."

Jenner took us to a smaller room, deeper within the underbelly of the CDC, where he began to draw our blood. I volunteered to go first, being used to mandatory bi-monthly drug and blood tests in the army. They had wanted to make sure that their soldiers were clean and healthy. After me, the kids went, and then the mothers and it went on, until we got to Andrea, who had taken to the chair after Amy had blood taken.

"What's the point?" She questioned, as Jenner pulled the blood. "If we were infected, we'd all be running a fever."

"I've already broken every rule in the book by letting you in here. Let me just at least be thorough." Jenner replied, pressing a cotton ball to her arm to stop the tiny bleed.

Andrea climbed out of the seat, Jacqui standing there waiting to have her own blood taken, when the blonde stumbled slightly, dizzy and a little weak. Amy immediately jumped to her sister's aid, both her and Jacqui taking some of Andrea's weight.

"You okay?" The doctor questioned, looking concerned.

"She hasn't eaten in days. None of us have." Jacqui explained, as she and Amy helped Andrea to her seat, before moving back towards Jenner, and sticking out her arm.

Jenner glanced around at us all, clearly tired and hungry, before he shook his head and repeated the same procedure again. The same amount of blood, just one vial, and then he was done and taking the blood to a cupboard for storage.

We all watched as he bustled around before he waved us to our feet, trudging along behind him, the feeling of exhaustion kicking in after our bloodletting, but no one spoke until he took us to what I gathered was the CDC's version of a mess hall, though on a smaller scale.

He began rifling through cupboards, pulling out food containers and gestured for us to sit around the large table, as he cooked. Carol, Lori, Jacqui and Amy immediately offered their assistance and when he waved them off, they only insisted more, moving towards the kitchen and cooking spaghetti and tomato sauce and warming biscuits and soup.

Soon a large variety of foods was crowding around the table, and bottles of wine and soda were brought out to be consumed, and everybody was praising Jenner as their lord and savior as we all sat around to eat. He had given us shelter and food and wine, a sense of security that we hadn't felt in a long time.

People were laughing. They were at _ease._ They felt _safe_. That was something that made it a lot easier for me to relax and be a little less guarded. My people were happy. Dale was even trying to convince Lori to let Carl have a glass of wine with his dinner, much to her amusement.

"You know, in Italy," He started, pouring Lori her own glass of wine and handing it to her. "Children have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France!"

"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then." Lori replied with a smile, putting her hand over the wine glass in front of him.

"What's it gonna hurt?" Rick questioned, and I shook my head at the dopey grin on his face from where I was sitting across the table from him. I'd purposefully taken this seat so he would have to sit with his family, knowing that with everything that had happened, he should be close to Carl, and maybe reconnect with Lori, or at the very least, learn how to be her friend. Carl will have to deal with a lot growing up in the apocalypse, but he didn't need to deal with divorce tension or whatever. "Come on. Come on!"

Lori grinned at Rick's enthusiasm before conceding to his wishes, taking her hand off the top of Carl's glass and waving at Dale, chuckles erupting around the table at Carl's excited expression. Dale poured a small amount, and handed it to the young boy.

"There you are, young lad."

We all quietened down, watching as Carl took a hesitant sip, before we erupted into laughter as his face screwed up and he let out a half-strangled laugh of disgust. Lori took the wine and poured it into her own glass, murmuring 'that's my boy' as she did so.

"Yuck. That tastes nasty." Carl moaned, shaking his head like a dog, as though it would get the taste out of his mouth.

"Stick to soda pop there, bud." Shane advised, a little smirk gracing his face. He'd been quiet this entire time, something very unlike him. Usually, if there was drinking and food and celebration, you would hear Shane drunkenly bellowing out Super Bowl statistics. I guess he felt the same as I did.

I was glad we had this protection, and that we had food and wine and all the added bonuses that came with the safety the CDC provided, but I was still unsure of this place. Why was he the last man standing? What had happened to everybody else?

"Not you, Glenn." Daryl said, walking around the table towards Shane and me, pouring some wine into our glasses for us. I nodded my thanks to him, and he nodded back, and I saw a real smile grace Daryl Dixon's face and I was glad that he was having a little fun too. Merle's disappearance was still weighing heavily on his mind, but he was loosening up with the alcohol that Jenner had provided.

"What?" Glenn questioned, lowering his own bottle of wine and staring, completely confused, at the redneck across from him.

"Keep drinking, little man. I wanna see how red your face can get." Daryl teased the Korean, and I wondered when they started to get along. Daryl had seemed almost as bad as his brother when it came to his dislike of other races, yet he seemed friendly enough to Glenn now. Maybe Glenn's kidnapping by the Vatos had bonded them or something. It was good that everybody was forming connections.

We all chuckled at their rapport, until a clinking of a fork against a glass caught our attention. I looked over at Rick, who had climbed to his feet, holding his wine in his hand.

"We haven't thanked our host properly." Rick started, before getting interrupted by T-Dog.

"He is more than just our host." T-Dog announced, and titters of agreement circled around the table. I glanced at Jenner, and he didn't seem all that affected by our gratefulness. He looked sad, really. It made me wonder what his story was even more.

"Booyah!" Daryl cheered, people echoing the sentiment around the table, even I repeated it, not tearing my eyes off Jenner.

"So when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, Doc?" Shane questioned, and I winced at the timing, but was almost grateful that it was now out there on the table. "All the, uh, all the other doctors figuring out what happened. Where are they?"

"We're celebrating, Shane. No need to do this now." Rick chastised, and I shook my head, clearing my throat, my eyes staring at the white table.

"Shane's right, Rick. It's been bugging me too, and I've already ignored my gut once and we lost eleven-" I winced, as I forgot to account for Jim in the total. I swallowed past the lump in my throat, before I continued to talk, ignoring everybody's burning gazes. "Twelve people. I'm not ignoring my instincts again and I'd rather know what the deal is now so I can sleep without fear of being murdered in my sleep. No offense, Doc, but I don't know you or what kind of man you were or are and there's no way you should be the last. I don't know how many people worked here exactly, but it was at least a few hundred. Around a hundred scientists, a hundred or so technicians, and then the admin staff, the janitorial staff…why are you the last?"

"Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just…left. Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted." Jenner explained, a tired expression in his eyes as he held my gaze and I felt guilty for pushing him to answer, but I had already lost people, and I couldn't risk any more.

"Every last one?" Shane pressed, and I tore my eyes away from Jenner to give him a warning look.

"No. Many couldn't face walking out the door. They…opted out. There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time."

"You didn't leave. Why?" Andrea questioned, her and Amy sitting opposite me.

"I just kept working. Hoping…to do some good." Jenner replied, and I heard it, felt it, in his words. There was no cure here. He hadn't been able to find the solution. Andrea and I could both see it in his eyes; the defeat. The blonde and I exchanged a glance across the table, silently vowing not to bring it up until he did. If no one else had come to the same conclusion as we had, we didn't need to panic anybody.

"Dude, you are such a buzz-kill, man."

An awkward silence came over the group, and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, taking a large gulp of wine, before clearing my throat.

"I don't know about you guys, but the one thing that could make this place perfect would be hot water. I'd kill for a hot shower." Chuckles moved around the table and I smiled as I was able to relieve some of the tension.

* * *

"Most of the facility is powered down, including housing," Jenner informed us, as he led us down yet another pristine white corridor, but this one looked more lived in with more homey lighting instead of the bright lights that led down to the labs. There were a lot of blue doors that opened into small office-esque rooms with large couches. "Make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy."

Jenner stopped, turning around to the two kids who followed closely behind him, with Glenn, T-Dog and I on their heels, and smiled at them, lowering himself down so his head was nearer to their eye level.

"Just don't plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that draws power," He straightened up and looked back at us. "The same applies, if you shower, go easy on the hot water.

A murmur of excitement rippled through the group. _Hot fucking water. _I had only been half-joking about the hot water, because I knew that there was a slim chance of there being a pilot to generate the heaters to even make the damn water hot, but _fuck _there was hot water!

Glenn turned around in front of us, and grinned almost manically.

"Hot water?"

"That's what the man said." T-Dog grinned, before he and Glenn rushed off to claim their own offices/rooms.

I just jumped in to the one closest to me, closing the door behind me, before placing my stuff down by the couch. I was almost giddy as I took my shower stuff out of my duffel bag, my body practically humming out of joy at the certainty of a hot shower.

I rushed over to the small bathroom and closed the door behind me, eagerly shedding my clothes before I moved into the shower. I slowly turned the tap, closing my eyes as warm drops of pure heaven began to rain down on my body. Out of nowhere, I started laughing. It felt so good to be able to clean myself again, the hot water was the bonus.

I tried not to focus on the ground; the water turned a light pink color as all the blood I had missed when cleaning up after the walker attack ran down the drain, along with all the sweat, dirt and grime that had accumulated after cleaning up the camp, digging the graves, disposing of the dead and the journey to the CDC.

Being clean again felt good. Like alternate-reality-where-there's-no-such-thing-as-walkers good. I scrubbed myself with my shower gel, struggling to contain my glee at the smooth feeling of the rose-scented foam on my skin, until I felt all the built-up muck disappear. I tackled my hair next, trying to rid myself of the tangles and matted parts so it would be easier when I brushed it later.

Climbing out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around me, securing it so I had my hands free to dry my hair, and walked out in my room and had to hold in a scream. The euphoria that my shower had brought me had also numbed my senses, as I had not even heard someone enter the room. The thought that all it took for me to let my guard down was some wine and a hot shower was a scary one.

Rick just grinned from his place on the couch as I held one hand to my heart, the other held up my towel, and tried to calm my breathing.

"You didn't hog all the hot water, did you?" Rick questioned, and I threw the spare towel in my hand at him, glaring at the grinning idiot who had almost given me a heart attack as he caught it before it hit him in the face as I had intended.

"No, I didn't. What are you even doing in here?" I retorted, feeling my heart still racing. Although that could be because I was naked and in the same room as the love of my life, but, if anybody asked, I would never admit to that aloud.

"Roommates?"

I stared at him curiously. At the house in King County, it had been necessary for us to all sleep in the same room, for security and protection, and in the camp at the quarry, I'd put it down to awkwardness making Rick unable to share a tent with his estranged wife, but now? Why didn't he pick a room next to Lori's and Carl's and sleep there?

"I'd sleep better knowing you were right there." Rick added, when it became clear to him that I was confused as to his reasons for wanting to bunk together when there were plenty of spare offices for him to crash in.

He would sleep better if he knew I was there? My stomach did a flip that I tried my best to ignore, searching his face for any hidden motive, but couldn't find one. Rick had always been honest with me, so I don't know why I keep trying to find dishonesty in him.

I nodded, accepting his words, and faked a sigh.

"If you must. I mean, it's a complete imposition, but I think I'll survive it," I teased, and he rolled his eyes at me. "Go shower. You're stinking up the room."

"Yes, ma'am."

Rick stood up and saluted me, before heading into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

I rushed to get dressed before he came out, pulling on underwear and my pajamas as quickly as possible. It reminded me of my cadet days in the army when I'd been fooling around with another cadet and we'd almost been caught by our drill sergeant. We'd both rushed to pull our clothes back on, and make ourselves look slightly less disheveled before he'd walked in to the barracks. That was a good time.

I yanked on my clean white sleep shirt and the pair of red plaid sleep shorts I loved, before pulling on my boots, slipping a knife into each and tucking one of my Glocks into the waistband of my shorts, hiding it under my shirt. I was going to do a brief walk around, check in on everybody, before heading to bed.

The high I was feeling from my shower was wearing off, and my doubts about this place and Jenner were coming back to me. It felt almost too good to be true that this place was completely secure and safe, which usually meant it wasn't.

Ignoring the fact my hair was still dripping down my back, I left the room, silently closing the door behind me, before knocking on doors to check on everybody. Some of them, namely Shane, T-Dog and Glenn, had rolled their eyes at me, while most of the others just reassured me they were fine. All I received from Daryl was a happy grunt, before he went back to drinking in his room.

When I had checked in with everyone, even Carol and the kids in the rec room, I went back to my room, only to get yanked into Amy and Andrea's room by the two blondes. I laughed as Andrea closed the door behind me, and Amy pulled me further into the room until we were all sitting on the two cots they had pushed together.

"Is there something you guys wanted or did you just feel like kidnapping me?" I questioned with a smile and an arched brow, waiting patiently for an explanation.

"We thought we'd get drunk and share stories. Like pre-outbreak stories. We want to know you better," Amy smiled, and I debated telling them that I was tired so I didn't have to share my somewhat pathetic life story, but I found myself nodding and agreeing. "Great! Well, we have wine, wine or whiskey."

"I'll take the whiskey. My daddy always drank whiskey. Called it the drink of the strong-willed, because only the strong-willed would be able to stand the burn on the way down," I chuckled, taking the bottle from Amy, and whistling appreciatively as I read the bottle. "The Macallan Sherry Oak 25-year. These egg-heads got the good stuff."

I opened it and that smoky, earthy scent hit me instantly, reminding me of my father even more. A bottle of a good scotch and a cigar in his den after a football game had gone sour. My mother had always hated him smoking and drinking. She thought that the only time it was acceptable to drink was at Sunday Mass, something she rarely attended as she was more a New Age hippie than the devout Catholic her parents had raised her to be, and smoking was a filthy habit she could never break my father of.

I slowly lifted the bottle to my lips, already anticipating the burn, before I tipped it back, swallowing the fiery liquid, and letting out a satisfied hiss of approval. Amy had been watching me, probably wondering why I was taking my time with it, and she giggled when I hummed in appreciation.

"Wanna get a private room with that bottle?"

"I think this is the kind of scotch that could show a girl a good time." I joked back, laughing with the two blondes.

I had always wanted a sister, especially after my brother died, and I was a little bit jealous of the relationship that Amy and Andrea had. Jackson and I had been that close once. He was nearly ten years older than me, but he always visited, always, until he decided to join the army and was sent overseas.

And then he died. So, I made do with Shane. He was a good surrogate brother. My feelings for Rick went far beyond brotherly love so I could never have seen him that way, but Shane did his best and I was always grateful for that.

Putting those thoughts aside, the Harrison sisters and I talked about anything and everything. My life as the only female Ranger in the US Army, Andrea's previous job as a civil rights lawyer, Amy's studies at college. She went to the University of Georgia and had been studying English Literature before the outbreak.

We joked about past boyfriends and sexual dalliances, we howled with laughter at funny stories I told about Rick and Shane and me growing up in King County, and it felt almost normal. Like a group of girlfriends meeting up on a Friday night for girl talk and drinks.

Although, I kind of ended up ruining it when I pulled the gun from the waistband of my pajama shorts because it was starting to get uncomfortable. We all kind of sobered up at the symbol of the apocalypse we were currently living through.

"You don't feel safe here, do you?" Andrea questioned, her eyes on the grey gunmetal before turning those piercing blue orbs onto me.

"It's not that…" I sighed, and dragged my hand through my hair before I found the right words to express why I still felt the need to be armed. "Back at the quarry…I let my guard down and because of that Amy almost died and eleven…twelve people did. I don't want to risk that happening again."

"And something about Jenner is setting off your gut feeling." Andrea stated, rather than questioned, and I reluctantly nodded.

"It's not that I don't think he's a good guy. I don't think he's going to murder us in our sleep. I just get the feeling that he's holding something back, and that we might not like it."

"Well, I know that I'm happier knowing that you're still prepared for whatever comes our way, and that you're just opposite us," Amy smiled warmly, and, since we had barely known each other for more than three or four days, I was surprised to see the complete trust she had in me, displayed openly on her face. It felt good. Having someone's utter faith in you was both terrifying and wonderful. "I'll sleep better knowing that you have our best interests at heart."

"I do. And so does Rick…he just has more faith in strangers than I do. Always has. He's the optimist, Shane's the pessimist and I'm the realist. That's how we've always functioned." I smiled tightly. Sometimes it was hard to think about the great friendships we all had as kids, and how messed up things between us all was now. I was in love with Rick, who had married Lori and broke my heart in the process and Shane was in love with Lori, who had slept with him after finding out that her ex-husband, his best friend, had died and she needed comforting and she had fallen in love with him as well, I think. It was a complicated mess.

"So Rick's the heart, Shane's the spine and you're the soul." Amy surmised, and my smile turned a little more genuine.

"You could look at it that way, I guess."

"Speaking of Rick…what _is_ going on with you two?" Andrea questioned, and now I felt like it had turned into a girl's night. The boy talk had officially started.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I feigned innocence, shrugging my shoulders and taking another gulp of whiskey, feeling that tell-tale buzzing feeling in my head that told me I should probably stop drinking if I didn't want a hangover in the morning.

"Yeah, you do. Don't deny it! When you're not giving him that sad, 'I'm madly in love with you' puppy dog look when he's not looking, he's giving you the same." Amy stated, and I blinked at her rapidly. I had not known that I gave Rick a look of that description, nor had I noticed that he gave me the same. He wasn't in love with me…was he? No, he wasn't. Was he, though?

"Yeah, and he said that things between you were 'complicated'," Andrea quoted, even going so far as to use air quotes, and I stared at her, remembering the same thing. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know. What does that mean?" I questioned, my eyebrows furrowing as I thought it through.

"You should ask him!" Amy exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes, taking another swig of whiskey, shaking my head.

"_No, _that would make things weird. Not just with me and Rick…but with Lori as well. She was my only girlfriend before you guys…I don't wanna ruin that." I was starting to slur, so I put my bottle down, screwing the lid onto it so it wouldn't spill.

"But you need answers, and more importantly, we need answers!" Amy retorted, and I laughed with them.

"She's right though, T. You need answers and when you get them, you have to share them with us." Andrea added, and I nodded, pointing at her, grabbed my gun and climbed off the make-shift double bed, nearly tumbling head-first into the couch until I managed to steady myself.

I glared at the bottle of whiskey, realizing that it was three quarters empty and that I was far drunker than I had originally thought.

"You're right. Thirty something years is too long to be in love with someone without knowing if they feel the same. I've been a coward for far too long, and I will ask him what he meant…after I sleep this alcohol off so I know it's a sober decision," I concluded, nodding my head at my own words before walking to the door. "Goodnight, ladies!"

"Night!" They chorused back to me, as I closed their door behind me, before stumbling across the hall to my own room.

Rick had made a bed up for the both of us on the floor, probably realizing that I wouldn't be able to sleep on a bed after two months of hunkering down on the ground, and I smiled at it. I nudged my boots off, before collapsing onto my knees and tucking my Glock underneath my pillow. I wriggled around until I was cocooned underneath the covers, warm and comfortable.

Just when I had started to drift off to sleep, I heard the door creak open. My hand shifted underneath my pillow and gripped my gun, but I forced my eyes to open and focus before I shot the perpetrator. Luckily, it was just Rick trying to sneak in, just as drunk as I was.

He smiled at me as he tried to quietly close the door behind him, and toe off his own shoes. I giggled when he practically body slammed the floor as he dropped down onto the blanket bed, smiling when he shifted until he was right behind me and pulled me into the circle of his arms.

"We're safe now, T. We don't have to be afraid anymore." He whispered, and I twisted my head to consider his eyes, which were just as bleary as mine from drink.

"Hey, Rick?" Rick hummed into my hair as a reply, pushing his nose into the hectic waves that I could barely keep tamed and breathing in the scent of my shampoo. "Back in the department store, what you said to Andrea, that we're complicated…what does that mean?"

Despite deciding this topic would be best left sober, apparently drunk-Thea liked to contradict herself. I held my breath as I waited for his answer. He seemed to pause for a couple seconds that felt like a couple eternities, before he finally spoke.

"Means that I've been halfway in love with you my whole life, and still am, but you never seemed interested. In high school, Shane kept telling me to just ask you out, but I didn't want to lose you, so I never did."

In my drunken haze, his words having made my whole body feel like it was on fire, I turned in his arms so I was facing him and pressed my lips to his gently before taking them away.

"You should have." I whispered, hugging him close to me, my fingers running up and down his back, our bodies completely flush against each other. Alcohol sure was making me brave.

"Should have what?" Rick said, as he leaned his head closer towards mine, trying to reclaim my lips, but I kept them just out of reach.

"Asked me out."

Something flashed in Rick's eyes, and he nudged me until I laid on my back with him hovering over me. His mouth claimed mine, and I moaned at the contact, especially as his tongue pushed past my lips and dabbed my own. Our tongues fought for dominance, the kiss only getting more and more heated, hands starting to wander. It was hot, and more than I expected our first kiss in about eighteen years to be. It was passionate and heavy and loaded with all sorts of unanswered questions, but it was amazing.

But, probably because we were both drunk and not in the right mind, it didn't feel right.

Rick suddenly pulled back, the both of us panting heavily. He stared into my eyes for a long, drawn out moment then pressed his lips to my forehead, before moving off me and maneuvering us back into our original position; both of us on our sides, with him curled around me, my back to his chest. It was probably for the best. We were both drunk, and going further than just drunkenly making out would make it a lot harder to move past when we were both sober and in the right mind.

Because I knew in the morning that I'd have to pull back from him slightly. I loved Rick, so much that it was ridiculous, but he needed his family. He needed Lori and Carl, and I still wasn't convinced that things between the married couple were completely over. I didn't want to get in between them. I wasn't that kind of woman.

So, when the morning came, I'd pretend that nothing happened.

* * *

**A/N:**

What's this? Two updates in two days? Wha-? Your eyes do not deceive you, my loves! Because of something wonderful that is happening, I decided to give you a second chapter for this week!

Basically guys, I have had enough of working jobs that make me miserable when all I want to do is write, which makes me happy, so I've launched a page. If you haven't heard of , it is basically a site where artists/authors/musicians/people with a business idea can have their fans pledge donations each month and in return they get access to rewards and lots of fun stuff. For example, if you pledge $1/month, you get access to all the exclusive content I'll post for my patrons, but if you pledge $10/month, you get your name credited in my book once it gets published :D If any of you guys want to support a struggling author trying to live her dream, then type www. salstratton (without the spaces) and make a donation! Writing my own stories, not just fan fiction, is all I've ever wanted to do and it would be so perfect if you guys would join in this journey with me.

Oh, and I created a Facebook page! Its under the name of SAL Stratton, so go check it out and give it a like because I will be posting snippets of my novel, and my fan fictions, and random thoughts that pop into my head. You can talk to me there, or click the 'contact us' button, which will take you to my new tumblr sideblog, where you can send me writing prompts, or any things you'd like for me to incorporate into my fan fictions, or what you think of Exit Wounds so far and Thea and Rick (Rhea? Thick?). I would love to talk to you guys more!

Now, to the lovely reviewers from last chapter and the chapter before, you guys are awesome! Thank you for the love;

**yggdrasil001, AmethystSiri, Guest (1), Guest (2), PsychoBeachGirl88, Lesly2626, universe without a soul, emberlies** and **Morrowsong.**

Now, I don't know when the next new chapter will be up, because I am taking part in NaNoWriMo and I'm determined to actually finish it this year. So, my main focus is on my novel right now, but I promise I will not make you wait nearly ten months for the next chapter :P

I love you guys so much!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, with all the Thea, Amy and Andrea bonding, and the Thea and Rick action, and let me tell you that the next chapter is just as interesting in terms of the shifting dynamics between our favorite blind idiots :D

Till next time, guys!

* * *

**S.A.L. Stratton**


	15. Bug Out

**A/N:**

Okay, this is just a brief warning that in this chapter, and following chapters, there are brief mentions of a character contemplating suicide. Or rather, death by incineration, which I think still counts. Enjoy the chapter, anyway!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**** – Bug Out**

* * *

**"****There's a loneliness that only exists in one's mind.**

**The loneliest moment in someone's life**

**Is when they are watching their whole world fall apart,**

**And all they can do is blink."**

**-F. Scott Fitzgerald**

* * *

Glenn groaned and I rubbed his back in sympathy from where I sat next to him. In all honesty, my own head was ringing like I'd been standing too close to a firefight, and the smell of the food that was in front of me was making my stomach want to turn. Most of us were already sitting around one of the tables in the cafeteria, bar Rick, Shane, Jacqui, T-Dog and Daryl, though Jacqui and T-Dog had taken charge of the cooking of breakfast.

I had woken up early in the morning, mostly to avoid Rick, partly because my stomach was turning upside down and I wanted to find a different bathroom to empty my stomach in. If I had thrown up in the bathroom in my room, Rick would have woken up and I wouldn't have been able to avoid a conversation I did not want to have. Or, if God was only answering the smaller, tinier prayers now, that Rick had forgotten the kiss completely and I could continue my pining without being rejected or heartbroken.

"You think this is bad? Try getting wasted the night before you have to go into combat…hangovers and warzones, with heavy gunfire and RPGs, are not the combination you want." I joked, my voice soft as I was trying not to hurt my own head by speaking too loudly.

Glenn grunted beside me, probably imagining the scenario I had painted, and I tried to laugh without jostling my stomach too much.

"Aunt T, did you get drunk last night?" Carl questioned, and I gave a quick glance to Lori, who just raised an amused eyebrow at me as if to ask the same question.

"Yes, yes I did, squirt. Excess alcohol is a bad lifestyle choice, kiddo. If you mimic anything I do, do not let it be drinking…or smoking. Smoking is bad for you." I replied honestly, pointing at him with one half-shaking finger. It looked like it was shaking.

"I know, but if you know that, why do you still do it?" I shrugged my shoulders, and smiled at my godson.

"Because…I'm stupid."

"Why do you think you're stupid?" Rick's voice questioned, and I felt my body tense as I turned my head to look at him. He was smiling widely, looking just as rough as I felt, as he pretty much fell in to the empty chair next to Carl. "Morning."

"Morning-"

"Are you hungover?" Carl asked, cutting me off, and Lori and I gave Carl amused grins. Since he'd woken up and sat down to breakfast, he'd practically asked every adult that same question "Mom said you'd be."

"Mom is right." Rick sighed, and I pushed my plate of untouched food in front of him and he muttered his thanks under his breath.

"Mom has that annoying habit." Lori quipped, and I chuckled at her as she tore up a slice of bacon with her fingers.

I passed Rick his knife and fork, and our fingers brushed as he took them, his blue eyes gazing into my own and the glint in his eyes told me that God was still not answering my prayers. Rick remembered. I waited until he had taken his utensils, before looking away and picking up my glass of water to distract myself from the fact my face felt warm. God, I was such a teenage girl, blushing over eye contact with my crush.

God, I hate myself.

"Eggs!" T-Dog exclaimed, as he stepped out of the kitchen area with a steaming pan. "Powdered, but I do 'em good."

Glenn moaned again, and Jacqui and I both reached towards him and rubbed his back and arms, trying to make the kid feel a little better.

"Bet you can't tell," T-Dog continued, a little smirk on his face as he began to pile eggs onto the plate that Glenn was currently hunched over. "Protein helps the hangover."

Glenn groans again, and I chuckle in sympathy, before I take another sip of my water. Rick grabs my attention by shaking a bottle of aspirin, holding it up in the air so we could see what he was about to talk about.

"Where did all this come from?"

"Jenner." Lori answered simply.

Rick nodded, before handing her the bottle of pills, asking for her help opening them. He had always been useless with medicine bottles. The child-proof mechanisms always seemed to stump him. As stupid as it was, it hurt a little to see that old domesticity flare up between them, even after our kiss last night.

"He thought we could use it. Some of us, at least." Amy added, trying not to laugh at Glenn from where she sat on the other end of the table with her sister and Dale.

"Don't ever, ever let me drink again." Glenn moaned, the back of his hand still pressed to his forehead, a fork hanging uselessly from his fingers.

"But who would we laugh at for not being able to handle their brain grenades?" I teased him, and when I noticed the several confused expressions, I sighed and continued. "Alcohol…brain grenades means alcohol…you know what, learn to speak my language."

I crossed my legs over on my chair, folded my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair, while everyone else laughed at me as I pouted. I was two years away from being considered a lifer. Eighteen years I had served in the US army. _Eighteen_. I couldn't just switch off the army speak any more than I could stop my annoying feelings for Rick. I missed my brothers. I could speak army all day long and I wouldn't have to deal with the blank expressions of the uninitiated.

"What's up with Pouty?" Shane greeted us, as he trudged into the cafeteria with a pout of his own. "She not had her eighth cup of joe yet?"

Coffee was one of those blessed luxuries that soldiers, like me, valued the most, second behind a nicotine fix. Living with Shane, he would always complain that I drank too much coffee, because when I was Stateside, I would end up making up for lost time and drinking almost too much all at once. I got coffee jitters once, because I had like eighteen cups in one day and had over caffeinated myself. Shane had been so worried about me; he had taken me to the hospital.

"Hey," Rick smiled, watching Shane walk straight to the coffee machine, getting two cups instead of one. "You feel as bad as I do?"

"Worse." Shane mumbled, turning around with the two cups of coffee in hand.

"What the hell happened to you? Your neck?" T-Dog questioned Shane, as he sat down on the other side of me, nudging one of the coffees towards me.

I furrowed my brow as I reached out and turned his head to the side so I had a better view. Three scratches. Like fingernails. Shane pushed my hand away gently, probably trying to get me to leave it be, but I saw his eyes flicker to Lori. Lori, who was eyeing her half-empty plate very intently, did not seem to have any signs of a fight displayed on her, but I knew that they must have gotten into it last night.

After all, I was trained to notice the unnoticeable.

"Must've done it in my sleep." Shane replied, and I arched an eyebrow at him.

"Never seen you do that before." I remarked, and I would know, having cohabited with Shane for the past eighteen years.

I never lived with him for long. I think the most was eight months when I was shot three times on a search and destroy mission in Baghdad, and I had a rather long recovery time, but mostly it was one week, a month tops that I would crash out in his spare bedroom before returning to work. I didn't have my own place in King County, and I didn't like to be a burden on my parents so Shane and I became roommates, sort of. It was an ideal situation for the both of us.

"Me neither. Not like me at all." Shane stated, and I didn't miss his glance towards Lori, who quickly stuffed some bacon in her mouth to distract herself.

"Morning." Jenner murmured, as he padded into the room, effectively stopping either me or Rick from continuing the discussion on Shane's mystery scratches.

"Hey, Doc." Some of us murmured, and Glenn kind of bobbed his head in recognition of the greeting, bringing a smile to my face.

"Doc, I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing." Dale broached, after a nod from Andrea and Amy. Clearly the blondes had listened to my words the night before, about still feeling uneasy because I was certain that there was more to Jenner than what he was showing us, and had brought it up with Dale.

"But you will anyway." Jenner replied, as he served himself some coffee.

"We didn't come here for the eggs." Andrea pressed, and our eyes connected over the table, and I nodded my approval.

We needed answers, and, while it had worked, Shane's passive aggressive way of doing it yesterday wasn't the way to go.

Jenner turned around and faced all of us, as we watched him, waiting.

"Follow me to the lab."

So, we did. We abandoned our breakfasts, and our coffee, and followed the doctor through the almost off-putting pristine white corridors to the large computer lab he had shown us before. Jenner walked straight to one of the control computers, putting down his coffee, before he looked up at the large screen mounted on the wall in front of us. I stood myself next to Jenner, leaning back against one of the desks behind me.

"Give me a playback of TS 19," He ordered, and Vi repeated his words as the computer began to boot up and the screen started to show the loading of data and 3D images of a person's brain from different angles and scans. "Few people ever got the chance to see this. Very few."

My eyes flickered from Jenner as he spoke back to the screen, seeing the 3D scan of a person's head being shown, before the imaging zoomed in and showed the brain more closely.

"Is that a brain?" Carl asked, and I smiled over at him. The Grimes curiosity burned from father to son, it seemed.

"An extraordinary one," Jenner replied, his face turning sad once he looked away from the boy and back at the screen. He had a personal attachment to the test subject. A friend or colleague, maybe. "Not that it matters in the end. Take us in for EIV."

"_Enhanced Internal View."_

The image shifted so we were looking at the brain horizontally, the scan zooming in, showing us the synapses sending electrical impulses around the brain. That's all I knew about the brain, and I had retained that from Advanced Bio in high school.

"What are those lights?" Shane questioned, from where he was sitting.

"It's a person's life. Experiences, memories, it's everything," Jenner informed us, and suddenly I felt like I was in high school all over again, listening to my Bio teacher giving a lecture. The Doc sounded very passionate about it. "Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you. The thing that makes you unique and human."

"You don't make sense ever." Daryl murmured, and Jenner expanded on his explanation.

"Those are synapses, electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says, does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death."

"Death? That's what this is? A vigil?" Rick surmised, stepping forward to stand closer to the screen and, coincidentally, to me.

"Yes. Or r-rather the…playback of the vigil." Jenner added, and I saw Andrea step away from Amy, her blue eyes shining slightly, and I saw the pain there. She was still thinking on the 'what if's'. What if Amy had been bitten? What if I hadn't shot those walkers? What if Amy had died? I could see it all play out on her face, and I wanted to hold her hand and reassure her, but it didn't seem like the right moment.

"This person died? Who?"

"Test Subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected and volunteered to have us…record the process," The strain in Jenner's voice, the way he got quieter as he went on, only convinced me that TS 19 was more than just a random bitten volunteer. He had cared for this person, whoever he or she may have been. "Vi, scan forward to the first event."

_"__Scanning to first event."_

The brain on the screen suddenly had a dark patch around the brain stem that hadn't been there before.

"What is that?" Glenn verbalized what we were all thinking.

"It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs," Jenner explained, as we watched the darkness spread throughout the brain as the patient clearly struggled to breathe, what with the way the body in the scan was shaking, before it went completely dead. "Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be…gone."

"Is that what happened to Jim?" Sophia asked her mother, her tiny voice carrying in the large, almost deadly silent, room. I thought about Jenny and how this had happened to her. All it took was one little bite, and then a whole lot of pain, and then she was gone.

"Yes."

I didn't even realize that I was crying until I felt Rick's arm wrap around me, and noticed Jenner's curious gaze on me.

"I lost somebody to this a couple months ago…a friend." I sniffed, thinking of Jenny and wiping my eyes with the back of my hand as I tried to ignore the warmth of Rick's hand on my shoulder, or how our sides were pressed firmly together. It wasn't an appropriate time to be mooning over him.

"I lost somebody, too. I know how devastating it is," Jenner divulged, confirming what I had known all along. TS 19 was that somebody he had lost. I nodded once at him, wrapping my arms around myself and tried to ignore the niggling thoughts in the back of my mind about Morgan and Duane's welfare. Jenner himself turned back to the screen. "Scan to the second event."

_"__Scanning to second event."_

"The resurrection times vary wildly. We have reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute, seven seconds." Jenner disclosed, as we watched the screen shift forward in time again, though the image didn't change.

Until, slowly, it did.

Little red and orange sparks lit up around the brain stem, just around the brain stem. Nowhere else.

"It restarts the brain?" Lori asked incredulously, the surprise in her voice echoing the surprise on all our faces, bar Jenner's.

"No, just the brain stem. Basically, it gets them up and moving." Jenner announced, and I felt Rick shift next to me, standing up straighter as though he was trying to get a better view.

"But they're not alive." He stated, though it felt like it should have been more of a question.

I knew why he had said that. Ever since the outbreak started, we've had to deal with the brain-ache-inducing conundrum of whether it was morally ethical to kill the walkers, as they had once been people. Everyday people, just trying to live their lives like everybody else, only their lives were cut short by a mystery disease or virus or infection and were now condemned to continue walking the Earth, even after death.

Rick wanted an end to the guilt of having to choose his family and the group over the once-living walkers.

"You tell me." Jenner suggested, gesturing to the screen as Rick and everybody else stared up at it.

"It's nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark." Rick concluded, and Jenner nodded.

"Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobes, the neocortex, the human part, that doesn't come back. The 'you' part. It's just a shell, driven by mindless instinct." Jenner informed us, and I felt like a small weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It would make it easier to defend ourselves against them, now that we knew for certain that they weren't human anymore.

Suddenly, something tore through TS 19's brain and the relit brain stem was destroyed.

"God! What was that?" Carol questioned, and I looked at Jenner tiredly.

"He shot his patient in the head. Didn't you?"

"Vi, power down the main screen and the work stations." Jenner instructed, as he walked past me and Rick, his arms crossed over his chest tightly.

"_Powering down main screen and work stations."_

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" Andrea guessed, and I could see from the defeated look on Jenner's face that she was right, and my stomach fell into my boots at our suspicions being confirmed.

If a doctor who specialized in disease control had no idea what had caused the dead to rise, what hope was there for a cure?

"It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal."

"Or the wrath of God?" Jacqui interjected, and I squeezed my eyes closed tightly, as I tried not to cry.

The CDC had been our beacon of hope, our chance at a cure and at survival, and not only had we only found one doctor left, but he had no clue as to what was happening here. He was pulling at straws, guessing.

I suddenly felt hopeless again.

"There is that."

"Somebody must know something. Somebody somewhere." Amy vocalized, and I could see the panic in her eyes that mirrored her sister's.

"There are others, right? Other facilities?" Lori pressed, and I could see Jenner becoming deflated. He didn't have answers for us, not the ones we wanted or the ones we needed. He was just as lost as we were, due to no fault of his own.

"There may be some. People like me." Jenner answered, but it wasn't good enough for Rick.

"But you don't know…how can you not know?"

"The same way I didn't know if Atlanta was safe. Everything turned to shit, Rick," I snapped, feeling all my frustration finally boiling over. "Communications, directives, all of it stopped. He's just as in the dark as we all are. Right?"

Jenner nodded.

"I've been in the dark for almost a month."

"So it's not just here? There's nothing left anywhere. Nothing," Andrea lamented, gripping her sister's hand in hers as the young girl silently wept onto her shoulder. "That's what you're really saying, right?"

Jenner's silence gave Andrea, and all of us, the answer we were anticipating. I breathed deeply in and out, as I tried to get a grip on myself. I was a soldier. Being up the creek without a paddle shouldn't faze me, especially not when I had people relying on me to stay strong and calm and collected.

"Man, I'm gonna get shit-faced drunk again." Daryl decided, running his hands through his hair, before he bent over a table, resting his head in his hands wearily.

"Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but…that clock," Dale pointed out, grabbing our attention as he walked towards it. I hadn't noticed it before. It was a digital clock…except the seconds were ticking backwards, not forwards. Dread filled my stomach. Ticking clocks were never fucking good in my experience. "It's counting down. What happens at zero?"

"The…basement generators, they run out of fuel."

"And then?" Rick questioned, and I gave him a dry look, before answering his question.

"Kaboom."

Rick looked at me with wide eyes, before turning back to Jenner for confirmation, but Jenner simply walked away. He wasn't giving anymore answers.

"Vi, what happens when the power runs out?"

"_When power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur."_

* * *

Rick, Shane, T-Dog and Glenn had gone to the basement to check out the generators, while the rest of us headed back to our rooms, but before anyone could go into their rooms, I stopped them.

"I don't want anybody to panic. Rick and the guys will figure something out in the basement, but having a Plan B never hurt anybody," I started off, noticing that nobody really understood what Vi had meant when she said facility-wide decontamination. "Everyone pack up their stuff, and leave it on the inside of your door. If they don't find any good news in that basement, we are leaving. Everybody got that?"

"Aren't we safe here?" Sophia asked, and I found myself torn between wanting to keep the children's minds at ease and being honest.

"We could be, okay, Sophia? I just want us prepared in case we aren't. Do you guys understand?" Sophia and Carl both nodded, and I gestured for them to go into their rooms. "Let me talk to the other adults for a minute, okay? You guys start packing up your stuff."

Carl and Sophia hesitated, but, with encouraging nods from their respective mothers, they listened, vanishing into their rooms, and I breathed in one large breath before turning back to the remaining adults of the group.

"Look…I have served in the army for eighteen years. I've done tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, so believe me when I say that a clock that is counting down is the only sign we need to pick up our shit and run for the hills."

"We don't know if decontamination necessarily means an explosion, Thea. We shouldn't jump the gun here." Dale argued, and I chuckled almost manically at his naivety.

"We're in the Centre for Disease Control, Dale. They grow some nasty shit in these labs, and the generators that are running this place, stopping those incurable diseases, viruses, parasites and fungal infections from getting out, are running out of juice," I explained, widening my eyes so that they saw the panic in them. I was scared shitless, and the fact that they weren't worried me. While I hadn't wanted to panic them before, mostly because of the kids being there, they needed to be more than just a little concerned. "I don't think decontamination in this case means a chemical shower, okay? A countdown always leads to an explosion…and we are in the center of it. If they don't find more fuel in that basement…we're dead."

"What should we do?" Amy asked, and I was grateful that she and Andrea seemed to be listening to me.

"Pack up your stuff. If we have to run, we won't have time to mess around with collecting everything. Keep your packs and anything you think is important on you until we are more certain of the situation. Everybody got that?"

They nodded, but I could see that Dale, Jacqui and the two moms were still a little unconvinced at the severity of the situation. They could doubt me as much as they wanted, if they took the steps that I had deemed necessary, I was fine with that.

We all parted ways, separating into our own rooms, and as soon as I closed my door, I started to rush around. Most of my stuff was packed, but Rick…the few things he had were scattered around the room. I picked up his uniform shirt, folding it up and packing it away in my duffel, before I picked up his few belongings and tucked them away in the weapon's bag he had brought in.

I collected my wash stuff from the shower, placing it back into my duffel, before I grabbed the last loose item in the room and placed it on top of Rick's bag. His deputy hat.

And that's when I felt it…or rather, didn't feel it. Air.

The air-conditioning had stopped.

The lights went out.

Doors to other rooms opened.

"Huh," I uttered, throwing on my backpack and grabbing my duffel and weapons bags as I listened to the others start to question a reappearing Dr. Jenner. "That started sooner than I had anticipated."

I moved quickly to my door, yanking it open just as Jenner breezed past with Daryl's bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"Energy use is being prioritized." Jenner answered someone's question, and I arched a brow as I fell into line behind him, just in front of the others, noticing that no one had listened to me about their stuff. Not even Andrea and Amy.

"Air isn't a priority? And lights?" Dale questioned, and I watched as the doctor took a swig of the hard liquor and shook his head, just as the lights in the corridor went out.

"It's not up to me. Zone Five is shutting itself down."

"Hey! What the hell does that mean?" Daryl demanded, as we all stalked Jenner through the halls, and I turned my head to acknowledge the redneck and answered his question when it appeared that Jenner wouldn't.

"It means that this building is mostly run by a giant computer that is programmed to run the computers until the last drop of juice runs out. Am I right, Doc?" I pushed, as we stepped back into the computer lab, and Jenner looked at me in surprise. His expression disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, but he nodded, confirming my suspicions.

We heard footsteps thundering underneath us, and saw Rick and the others appear just as we started to clamber down the metal staircase.

"Jenner, what's happening?" Rick's tone mimicked Daryl's from earlier, the demand for information clear in his voice, as he marched forward as we met him halfway, before having to turn around as Jenner continued to the computers.

"The system is dropping all non-essential uses of power. It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second, like your girlfriend so cleverly worked out," Jenner sounded almost bitter, and, because of the seriousness of the situation, I brushed aside the 'girlfriend' comment. "As it starts, we'd have just reached the half hour mark. Right on schedule."

The ominous red numbers of the wall clock mocked us as they ticked down from 31 minutes and 28 seconds.

Jenner took another large pull from the whiskey bottle, before he paused next to the steps that led to the computer bay. He looked back at us for a brief moment, probably registering the worry and panic, before he wordlessly handed Daryl the booze back.

"It was the French." He spoke, looking at Andrea before he headed to his computer.

"What?" Andrea's question made the doctor pause again.

"They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know. While our people were bolting up the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs to the end. They thought they were close to a solution." Jenner answered, turning his back on us again.

"What happened?" Jacqui pushed him, the need for answers making us disregard the stress and pain in his voice.

"The same thing that's happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice," Jenner stated, almost casually, and I glared up at him, as he skirted around what was really going to happen. I had worked it out, but there were others who wouldn't see the whole picture. "The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?"

Shane surged forward, muttering angrily under his breath, but Rick grabbed him and held him back, before pointing back at us.

"Lori, Thea, grab our things. Everybody. We're getting out of here now!" Rick ordered, shouting the last word, and we all turned around, ready to follow his instruction, when an alarm sounded stopping us all in our tracks.

"What's that?" Carl questioned, his voice shaking in fear, and Rick reached out and ran a hand through his hair, trying to comfort his son.

_"__30 minutes to decontamination."_ Vi announced, and I gestured for everyone to start running towards the doors again.

"Doc, what's going on here, damn it?" Shane shouted, at the same time I yelled, "Everybody out!" as I tried to get our group to safety.

"Ya'll heard her and Rick. Go grab your stuff and let's go. Come on!" Shane encouraged, as we all headed towards the doors again, only for them to shut in our faces.

"Did he just lock us in? He just locked us in!" Glenn exclaimed, and I spun on my heel and turned back, launching myself up onto the computer bay, skidding to a halt next to Rick, dropping my bags down onto the ramp that led to one of the newly sealed doors.

"What are we going to do?" I whispered to him, and he just looked at me, his eyes dull with his hopelessness.

"You sonofabitch!" Daryl bellowed, running right past Shane, hurtling towards the doctor where he sat in front of one of the computers, talking into a camera as he recorded our potential final moments.

"Shane! Shane!" Rick gestured frantically towards the redneck. Shane and T-Dog burst into action, darting towards Daryl, just as he reached Jenner and wrenched him away before he could do any damage to him. Seeing that one volcanic eruption had been dealt with, we pushed the focus back onto the more serious one as Rick and I advanced on the doctor. "Jenner, open that door now."

"There's no point. Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed."

"Well, open the damn things!" Dale argued, and I felt my fingers itching to the gun strapped on my leg. The blood-lusting side of the soldier in me was telling me to shoot him in the leg, apply some pressure on to it, get my answers through pain and intimidation, but I knew that wouldn't fly with the group.

"That's not something I control. The computers do. I told you once that front door closed it wouldn't open again. You heard me say that," Jenner pointed out, and I vaguely remembered that, but that did not excuse what he was doing right now. He was holding us hostage, and was going to force us to die on terms we did not agree to. "It's better this way."

"What is? What happens in 28 minutes?"

"Kaboom." I whispered, repeating myself from earlier, but Rick wasn't listening to me. He was looking to Jenner to give him a straight answer, but the scientist simply ignored him, and began typing on his computer.

"What happens in 28 minutes?" Rick repeated himself, bellowing the words and making poor Carol and Amy jump at the sound.

The kids were starting to cry, along with Amy, Carol and Lori. Even Glenn was shedding a tear or two, but nobody could blame them. We were facing our own deaths. They were looming over us right now, and there was nothing we could do to stop them from happening.

Except convince Jenner to let us go.

"Do you know what this place is? We protect the public from very nasty stuff!" Jenner shouted at Rick and Shane, echoing my words to the others, and I knew then that I had been right. We were going to be blown to pieces. "Weaponised smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! Ever!"

He had stunned us into silence as he practically screamed in our faces, but I wasn't angry with him. I felt sorry for him. He had the weight of the continuity of humanity's survival resting on his shoulders, and time was quite literally running out and he had failed. He was almost entitled to a nervous breakdown. I just wish it hadn't included making us die with him.

Jenner seemed to deflate after he had finished yelling, settling back into his chair and staring blankly ahead of himself.

"In the event of a catastrophic power failure and a terrorist attack, for example, HITs are deployed to prevent any organisms getting out."

"HITs?" Rick questioned, stepping forward. I could see Jenner open his mouth, either to give the definition himself or to get Vi to define it for him, but I beat him to the punch.

"High-Impulse Thermobaric fuel-air explosives," I breathed, tears falling down my cheeks as I realized exactly how we were going to die. I cleared my throat, trying to moisten it with my saliva, as it suddenly felt like I'd swallowed the Sahara Desert. "It's a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave that is more powerful and lasts longer than any type of explosion except nuclear. It ignites the oxygen in the atmosphere. It's only used when the greatest loss of life and damage is desired."

I looked around the room, my vision clear enough to see everybody's devastation. Carl was holding onto his mother for dear life, sobbing into her stomach, and Lori looked terrified as she clutched her son to her. Carol and Sophia were holding each other, their tiny bodies both heaving with their tears. Amy was huddled with Andrea and Jacqui, all three women crying in fear as Dale did his best to comfort them. Daryl looked pissed, angry that his choices were being taken away, and his expression was mirrored onto Shane's face. T-Dog looked like he had just been gut-punched, like the very breath in his body had been stolen away and Glenn looked like he was going to throw up, his face rapidly turning pale in his anguish.

"It sets the air on fire." Jenner muttered, just as Rick pulled me into his arms, and tucked my head into the crook of his neck, holding me close to him as I tried not to break down.

Two months ago, I had been ready to die.

Two months ago, the arrival of Morgan and Duane had forced me to live.

And now that choice was being ripped away from me again.

"No pain. An end to sorrow. Grief. Regret. Everything." Jenner continued, in drawn out, clipped sentences, probably to increase their devastation.

His words, and the high emotional intensity in the room, only pissed off our resident hunter. He growled before hurtling the whiskey bottle in his hand at one of the sealed doors, glaring down at the doctor.

"Open the damn door!" He demanded, just as Shane rushed forward, grabbing one of the fire axes.

"Out of my way!" He warned the others on the ramp, including Rick, Glenn and myself, and we stepped out of the way as he charged at the doors, lifted the axe over his shoulder and brought it down hard against the heavy metal seal.

I knew it was a useless attempt, but I didn't have it in me to discourage him, nor stop Daryl from joining him as T-Dog tossed him another axe. I just walked back to Lori and Carl, reaching out a hand, which Lori took, squeezing it tight as we exchanged a panicked look.

The mothers were huddled back against one of the computer desks with their kids. Amy, Andrea and Dale were still holding each other, though Jacqui had moved away, sitting on one of the chairs. The kids were still crying, and it broke my heart. This was supposed to be a safe place for them, so they didn't have to be scared anymore, but this place had turned out to be just as dangerous as outside.

"You should have left it alone. It would have been so much easier."

I turned around sharply, glaring at the doctor with as much hate as I could muster.

"Easier for who?" Lori demanded, her voice still audible over the loud grunts of exertion coming from Shane and Daryl at the door.

"All of you. You know what's out there. A short, brutal life and an agonizing death," Jenner insisted, turning his eyes onto me. "Your friend…What was their name?"

"Jenny."

"Jenny. You know what this does. You've seen it," He turned to Rick next, looking up at him from his seat. "Is that really what you want for your family, for your girlfriend, ex-wife and son?"

"I don't want this!" Rick hissed in reply, just as Shane came back, panting.

"I can't make a dent." He informed us, hunched over as he leaned on one of the computer monitors while trying to catch his breath.

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher." Jenner stated, matter of fact, just as Daryl returned, still grasping his axe.

"Your head ain't!" He growled, surging forward only to be stopped by Rick, Dale and T-Dog. The latter wrenched the axe out of the hunter's hand and forced him back.

"You do want this," Jenner pressed, climbing to his feet, his eyes burning into Rick. "Last night, you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead."

I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on me, as I turned and caught Rick's guilt-ridden eyes with mine.

"What?" I whispered, hardly able to believe that Mr. Opti-fucking-mistic had even had that thought, let alone let the words pass his lips, but the look on his face said it all. He hadn't had hope at all. After everything he said, everything we survived, Rick hadn't believed in us, in the group. "Is he telling the truth?"

"What? You really said that? After your big talk?" Shane questioned, and I took a step away from Rick.

He had lied to me. He claimed to have this hope that we could survive this, he said we could, but he didn't even believe his own words. He didn't even believe me when I said the same damn thing. His hope was all I had now and he didn't even have any. I felt like the one thing I was counting on had just been ripped away from me.

I felt betrayed.

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?" Rick defended himself, taking a step towards me, his eyes burning into mine.

"There is no hope. There never was." Jenner pushed, and I found myself starting to listen to him.

If Rick hadn't believed there was hope, the man who had always believed heart and soul in being optimistic and hopeful and honest, then how could there be?

What hope _was_ there for us? We'd already lost twelve people, plus four more left us. Our group was dropping like flies already. How could we have been so stupidly naïve to believe that we could have survived any longer than this, longer than the rest of humanity?

"There's always hope. Maybe it won't be you, but somebody, somewhere."

"What part of everything's gone don't you understand, Rick?" I snapped, and I almost flinched when Rick looked at me like my words had physically wounded him, but I didn't. I looked at him and felt it all suddenly hit me. The utter exhaustion. The fear. The hopelessness. It all came rushing at me, and I was certain that he saw that. "There's no army, no government, no CDC. There's nothing left."

"Listen to her. She finally gets it. This is what takes us down. This is our extinction event." Jenner announced, and I kind of wanted to block him out, but I couldn't.

Instead, I moved towards one of the desks, slid down the back of it, ignored the uncomfortable feeling of my backpack being in the way and curled in on myself. I tucked my knees up to my chin, wrapped my arms around them and held myself, while I waited for the clock to hit zero. Who did I have to live for anyway? My parents gave up right at the start of this thing, and I had no real family left, no boyfriend or fiancé or husband, no children to protect.

I had nothing and no one.

Maybe Jenner had been right all along. What was there to live for?

Rick crouched down in front of me, taking my hands, and forced me to look in his eyes.

"I need you to be on my side with this. I didn't mean what I said last night. I promise. We can survive this together, I know we can, but I need you with me. I can't do it without you," Rick whispered, and I stared into those blue eyes and knew that he believed it, but part of me still felt like Jenner was right. I'd taken the hard way my whole life, maybe it was time to choose the easy road. Or maybe, if I continued with the hard road, all that suffering and all that work might finally pay off. "You with me?"

Normally, I would give my usual reply, but this time I didn't know what to say. Carol spoke out before I could decide, and I saw the panic flare up in his eyes at the thought of me wanting to just say here and die.

"This isn't right! You can't just keep us here!" Carol argued, and her cries, and the cries of the children, made my more maternal side flare up.

Regardless of my own inner battle on whether to stay and die or leave and fight, Jenner had no right to keep the others here. If they wanted to carry on pretending that there might be some way to live though this nightmare, then that was their choice and he couldn't take that away from them.

"One tiny moment, a millisecond. No pain." Jenner informed her, trying to assuage her worries.

"My daughter doesn't deserve to die like this!" Carol cried.

Carol's tears tugged at my heartstrings, but not enough to make me want to get up.

"Wouldn't it be kinder? More compassionate to hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?"

"I can't do this without you, T." Rick whispered to me, his eyes begging and I wanted to scream.

I wanted to scream at him for all the time we'd wasted, for letting him have such a hold on me, even now, that his words were like a battle cry I wanted to take up. Fuck this man, fuck him and his need to be the hero, to save me even from my own damned self.

Dale helped Carol, Sophia, Lori and Carl move away from Jenner, moving them closer to him, just in time for Shane to come striding forward with his shotgun. Shane ignored Rick's protests, ignored Rick when he stood and tried to hold him back, simply telling his best friend to stay out his way, before he aimed the barrel of the gun right between Jenner's eyes.

"Open that door, or I'm gonna blow your head off, do you hear me?" Shane demanded, his eyes wide and crazy as he stared down the gun at his target.

I climbed to my feet, stepped towards him, moving to his other side as Rick was on his right, and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Brother, this is not the way we do this." Rick stated, and I continued, squeezing Shane's shoulder gently to remind him of my presence.

"Honey, you do this, nobody will get out of here. Think of the kids. This is not how they go out. This is not the way." I insisted, and I saw Shane's eyes flicker to me.

"Shane, you listen to them!" Lori ordered, and that's when I knew we had him. He was still pissed though, and let out a loud roar of rage, before firing several shots into the computers, before Rick managed to wrangle the shotgun out of his hands, and knocked him to the ground.

"Are you done now? Are you done?" Rick questioned, both breathing heavily, as the rest of us straightened back up from where we had hit the deck to avoid being shot.

"Yeah, I guess we all are." Shane hissed, but Rick said nothing.

He just stepped back and handed T-Dog the rifle and looked back at us as we all watched him, waiting for answers, for him to find the solution. He must have seen the desperation on all our faces, or, in some cases, the resignation, because he nodded to himself and turned around to face Jenner.

"I think you're lying."

"What?" Jenner asked, barely turning his head to show an outward sign of acknowledgement that he had been spoken to.

"You're lying. About no hope. If that were true, you'd have bolted with the rest and taken the easy way out. You didn't. You chose the hard path. Why?" Rick questioned, and I blinked at him, shocked to hear some of my inner words being used by him.

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. It always matters. Why didn't you leave?" I pressed, hoping he'd give up the information, so Rick could do whatever he was going to do, prove whatever point he was trying to make.

I needed this. I needed to hear why he stayed alive when he could have just ended everything along with everybody else.

The clock was still ticking.

"You stayed when others ran. Why?" Rick pushed.

"Not because I wanted to. I made a promise," Jenner snapped as he stood up, looking down at Rick, as he gestured to the blank, switched off screen. "To her. My wife."

"Test Subject 19 was your wife?" Lori asked softly.

"She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no?" Jenner divulged to us, as a metallic clanging began behind us again. I glanced back briefly to see Daryl start trying to axe down the door again. When I turned back, I saw Rick's eyes on me, and I knew what his look meant. It was a silent plea to stay with him, to keep going, just as Jenner had for his wife. That bastard. "She was dying. It should have been me on that table. It wouldn't have mattered. She was a loss to the world. Hell, she ran this place. I just worked here. In our field, she was an Einstein! Me? I'm just…Edwin Jenner. She could have done something about this. Not me."

"Your wife didn't have a choice. You do. That's…That's all we want. A choice. A chance."

I sighed, defeated. If Jenner let us out, Rick was going to make me go, or he would stay with me, and he knew I wouldn't let that happen.

"You can't just decide this for us. All we have left is each other and our free will. You have to let us go." I added, feeling tears build up in my eyes again. It felt like all I did anymore was cry.

"Let us keep trying as long as we can." Lori pleaded, her arms around Carl, who was shaking and pale and seemed to be frozen with fear.

Jenner seemed to consider our words, sighing, before he locked eyes with Rick again.

"I told you topside is locked down. I can't open those."

We all watched with bated breath, as Jenner moved past Rick to a keypad, swiped his employee card across it and punched in some number code. I felt Rick's hand slip into mine when we heard the door swoosh open, and Daryl and Glenn urging us to hurry up and go.

While everyone ran towards the exit, we stayed and faced Jenner.

"There's your chance. Take it."

"We're grateful." Rick spoke for both of us, and I squeezed his hand tightly in mine, reassuring him that I was with him.

"The day will come when you won't be." Jenner declared, before shaking Rick's hand and leaning towards him to whisper something in his ear.

I couldn't hear him over the sounds of everybody yelling behind us, urging us to leave, and I didn't really care, as long as we got out of there, but whatever he said, Rick pulled away looking horrified. I tugged on Rick's hand, pulling him backwards, grabbing my duffel and my weapon bag as we rushed past them.

"Hey! We've got four minutes left! Come on!" Glenn urged, as we made our way towards the ramp with the others. I did a quick mental count and saw everyone on the ramp, no one left behind until T-Dog tried to make Jacqui move.

"Let's go, Jacqui!" T-Dog insisted, trying to get her to move along with him, but she yanked herself out of his hold.

"No! I'm staying! I'm staying, sweetie." Jacqui announced, and we all stared at her in surprise. I know that, for a moment, I had given in to my darkest thoughts and had all but decided on giving up, but that's when I was sure that Jenner wouldn't budge. The door was open now. We could leave, and Jacqui wanted to stay?

"But that's insane!"

"No, it's completely sane. For the first time in a long time. I'm not ending up like Jim and the others. There's not time to argue. And no point, not if you want to get out. Just get out. Get out!" Jacqui pushed T-Dog back, tenderly cupping his face for the last time, making me wonder if there had been anything between them, before Shane pulled him back and forced him up the ramp.

"Come on, man. Come on! Let's go, let's go!" Shane pushed them both up the ramp, leaving only Dale behind, before Jacqui forced him to go too.

Suddenly, we were running through the halls, all of us, only briefly stopping to grab our stuff. Thankfully, everyone had left their packs by the doors just like I'd told them to, making it easier for us to step off to the entrance more quickly.

I kept the time, and we were cutting it close, but we made it to the front doors with just a minute and a half to spare, only to come face to face with our next obstacle. The sealed entrance with no way to unlock it. The guys tried the doors, T-Dog even trying to use the keypad, until I remembered something I had that could help us.

I dropped to my knees, putting my bags on the floor in front of me, before I began rifling through my weapons bag for what I was looking for, wincing when I heard Shane firing off a couple rounds into one of the windows. And that's when I came across it.

I grabbed our ticket to freedom, and rose to my feet.

"Everybody, get back. I got us our ticket outta here." I said, jogging towards the window that Shane had already weakened the integrity of with his shotgun and began to lay out the plastic putty blocks on the windows, setting it up with a detonator cord so I could set it off from a distance.

"What are you doing?" Glenn questioned, yelling at me, as I rushed back to the others, and pushed them all down to the ground.

"Everybody, get down! On the ground!" I ordered, setting off the detonator and covering my head as the C4 exploded, shattering the window outward.

As soon as the second wave was over, we all grabbed our stuff again and headed out. Rick and I climbed out first, taking the kids from Carol and Lori, before helping them climb down, as well as the others.

As soon as everyone was out, we rushed forwards again, across the dead littered grass, taking out the awakened walkers who crossed our paths.

We split up then. Dale, Glenn, Amy and Andrea headed into the RV, Carol, Sophia, Lori and Carl hopped into Carol's mom-mobile, T-Dog got into his van, Daryl into his truck, Shane into his Jeep, and Rick and I rushed into my trusted Explorer, barely making it in and ducking down before the whole place went up.

I felt Rick's body hovering over mine as he had all but thrown himself over me to protect me and felt the explosion rock the car as the CDC blew up completely. When we felt it die down, Rick and I slowly sat up straighter, eyes wide at the total destruction of the building in front of us, a fiery inferno left behind and the fact that we had somehow survived the blast. I glanced at Rick as we both panted slightly, because of all the running, the adrenaline, the fear that still gripped our hearts…but I tossed Rick the keys, not trusting my shaking hands to handle the wheel.

He turned on the engine, his eyes still on mine, and reached out to grab my hand with his free one, until he saw Shane pull away in front of us, signaling that we could follow on behind him.

All I kept thinking as we drove back down the same road we had driven up the day before was...that was _far too damn close._

* * *

**A/N:**

Hey guys! Here's an update!

In this one, Thea is very conflicted about everything. First, we see her interacting awkwardly with Rick post-drunk kiss, and then the Jenner meltdown and the reveal of potential imminent death, Thea goes through a lot of conflicting emotions. She struggles with figuring out what her best option in that situation; does she fight for survival and a bleak future, or does she resign herself to her fate and stay in the lab for a quick, painless death? And as we see, Thea chooses, at first, to die with Jenner, or at least to accept that as her fate, but she then leaves with Rick and the others because she knew that Rick would stay with her and she could not let that happen, not with Lori and Carl needing him.

I tried to mirror Andrea's desperation in Thea in this chapter, seeing as Andrea's despair is absent from Amy surviving the camp attack, because I thought that was an interesting part of Andrea's story. Her transition from depressed pessimist to determined survivor was great for me to see, especially as someone who suffers depression and anxiety. So, since she isn't depressed from the loss of her sister, I'm having Thea take that up, after losing her parents and a friend in Jenny, and the absent Morgan and Duane. And it will affect a lot of her decision making. Thea, after all, is a war vet. She's served overseas and she's seen a lot of shit, PTSD is practically a given.

Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, despite it's heaviness. But we're officially done with Season 1. I have a lot of ideas for Season 2 - which I will continue here in 'Exit Wounds' for a number of reasons that will become clear as we move through this next stage of the story!

I want to thank my reviewers for the last chapter, you guys rock;

**emberlies, PsychoBeachGirl88, Morrowsong, Guest, **and **ElysiumPhoenix.**

Oh, and I have some great news! I have opened a page! So, if you guys want to become part of my writing process and support me on my journey on writing, editing and publishing my first ever original novel, you can pledge a monthly donation over on salstratton (taking away the spaces, obviously) and you can get rewarded in return with a dedication in my book, or getting access to reading unpublished work, or a one-shot written just for you, depending on how much you choose to donate. Go and check it out if you want, and donate if you can!

I love and appreciate all my readers and I'm grateful for your support, in whatever form it comes in!

Love to you all and be kind to one another!

* * *

S.A.L. Stratton.


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